


Behemoth

by Weddersins



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Buckle up, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Families of Choice, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Healing, Found Families, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Knights of Ren - Freeform, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo Ren Redemption, Long, Major Character Injury, Major Original Character(s), Maybe more like medium burn, POV Alternating, POV Kylo Ren, POV Rey (Star Wars), Rey Needs A Hug, Self-Harm, Trust Issues, canonverse, chewbacca is everyones uncle, established force bond, honestly its long af, idk fam it just takes a while, maybe more of a medium burn, these kids got issues, we're all a bunch of broken people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-05-04 17:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 60
Words: 193,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14598051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weddersins/pseuds/Weddersins
Summary: "This is not going to go the way you think!" The words of the aged Jedi Master roared in her ears. And shit if he hadn't been right all along.Rey finds herself in the middle of a war where the lines have blurred - allies and foes twist and turn; and all the black and white she had ever known smears to grey. The singular constant is the pull to the Darkness, made physical in the form of a man Rey isn't totally certain she can trust.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ibecomeaffinity, my beloved, dedicated, beta, without whom this gargantuan 150k-word-at-time-of-writing fic would not exist.
> 
> This fic is mostly canon-compliant at till the events of the throne room, with two notable exceptions: the Resistance escapes to Crait from D'Qar successfully, and remains there for nearly a year. During that time, Rey remains on Ahch-To training with Luke, leaving after Luke discovers the truth of her Force Bond with Kylo.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
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> 

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

_“This is not going to go the way you THINK!”_

The exasperated, terrified roar of the Jedi master rings in Rey’s ears even as her own involuntary cries attempt to drown it out. His voice circles her, envelops her, mocks her, protects her. It echoes back from the floor and red walls, worming its way back into her brain. In-between the waves of agony, it finds her again.

She is hovering over the ground, four feet from the floor, her back ramrod straight and pure lightening burning through her nerve endings like a forest fire. Despite the Force holding her still her body was wracked with involuntary tremors. Her fingers twitched spasmodically. Blood pooled in her mouth and dripped in a disconcerting patter from her ears and nose, the sound thunderous even over the growling voice of Master Luke.

_“This is not going to go the way you THINK!”_

Her vision edged with red. She never should have left Ahch-To.

The stoic, unreadable face of Ben Solo - Kylo Ren - held her upside-down gaze. No emotion hid in his eyes, his expression was inscrutable. Rey wanted so badly to believe Master Luke was wrong - that the Light she saw in Ben through their strange Force Bond meant he could be redeemed. That the times where he was vulnerable, and soft, and scared had not been an act. That when he had comforted her, it had meaning. But as she watched him through the haze of red in her eyes her hope slipped away. Rey began to give into despair.

_“This is not going to go the way you THINK!”_

Master Luke’s words continued to taunt her. Is he with her, in the Force? Can he sense the torture; the pain blossoming under the waves of lightening and fire applied by Snoke? Luke’s voice feels so close...

Snoke cackled from his place on the ostentatious throne, barely exerting any physical effort in his methodical breakdown of her will. The Force was a battering ram, used to shatter what little control she has left over herself. Proud, fierce, Rey of Jakku - this will be how she ends. Rey knows she is dying, and despite her pain and the fire in her veins, she is cold.

This isn’t a foreign sensation; she had been in variations of this situation before. Different threats, same results. On Jakku, more than once. And on Starkiller Base. She had beaten back the shadow of death those times – but perhaps not today.

Rey kept her eyes locked on Ben’s dark gaze. The red in her vision blurred to grey, swirling with the black of his eyes. As Rey felt herself fading, she struggled to rationalize her foolish choice, to lend some meaning to her ignominious death. Would she leave a stain on Ben’s soul? Would it force him further from the Light or bring him closer in?

The thought chilled her, but she refused to release her conviction. If her death meant nothing to Ben, then she had been wrong. Her failure was complete; this suffering for nothing. And that, she would not accept. Rey tried to form his name with dying breath and numb lips, but she could not form even that simple syllable. Fatigue weighed her limbs, her mouth, her mind.

_“This is not going to go the way you THINK!”_

Master Luke roared in her head. He was right. Belatedly, Rey realized that she had broken her promise to the last of the Jedi, as well. She had promised not to fail him. And she had.

“Foolish girl.” The wheezing laugh of the deformed Sith Lord perched the throne cut through Rey’s circular thought pattern; a hot knife of pain in her mind. “If you thought for even one moment you could exert any sort of influence over my Apprentice, you are far more naive then even Kylo Ren himself had hoped. You are lost. I have your lightsaber. You cannot reclaim it. Your Master will be lost when I pry his location from the wreckage of your pathetic mind – I sense him already, an island; alone. You have failed. Your friends will die, one by one.”

Snoke leaned forward slightly and Rey’s body was ablaze with a fresh wave of lightening. She had nothing left in her; even her screams had fled.

Rey used the last of her strength to keep her eyes locked on Ben Solo, and her memories of Master Luke well hidden from any further prying. Would either of them feel her passing in the Force? Would it even matter?

 _Master... I’m sorry_. Her apology floats into the ether, as permanent as smoke. _Luke, forgive me. I only wanted to save him._

Oddly, she felt the spark of her strange Bond with Ben Solo flare to life as her vision darkened for the last time. She was shrouded in black, but she was not alone. _Ben?_ She said, weakly, into the fog of this half-connected Bond. _Ben, don’t let him win. You are better than this, Ben. Remember who you truly are. You are Ben Solo. You are not Kylo Ren, not if you chose not to be. You are more than your parentage, your failings, your triumphs. You have a choice._

Snoke cackled again from his position on the throne. “Even now, Rey of Jakku, I feel my young Apprentice strengthening in the Force. Even in this moment, feel his resolve and his commitment. You have lost, foolish girl. I have all I need from you. Kylo Ren, strike her down. End this. Complete your training. Become a Master alongside me, claim your title as a true Sith Lord. Fulfill your destiny.”

Rey heard the telltale crackle of a lightsaber flaring to life. Its charge made gooseflesh rise on her arms, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck now standing at attention in response to the power in the air. The Force in her rose to meet the Force in Kylo Ren - in Ben Solo. _Ben, Ben, no._

She felt the heat of the crossguards close to her skin, even above the lingering pain of the lightening from Snoke’s crooked hands. Rey sensed Ben’s discomfort through the weak Bond that she clung to like a lifeline. Her last link to the world of the living. The Force in her held the Bond-link open, allowing her to pour herself and all that she was through it and into Ben Solo. _Feel me_ , she breathes. _Ben, feel me. I’m here. I feel you, Ben. I’m here with you. You have a choice._

As she tired, Rey’s mind slipped into familiar, comforting memories - the smell of the infrequent rain in the deserts of Jakku. The feel of shifting sand beneath well-worn boots. The ceiling of her home in the corpse of an AT-AT complete with tally marks covering the interior, a tangible reminder of her will to survive. The awe she had felt upon seeing a tree for the first time - she had no idea anything could be so green. The joy of space flight, blue stars streaking past the Falcon’s cockpit. The power and heady rush of her call to the Light - the feeling of the very cells in her body singing with joy as she learned to harness the power she was born into. Cold nights before a warm fire, the feeling of being trusted. The hope she felt when connected to Ben - and how it felt to go from terrified of him to hoping for his redemption.

She received nothing back from Ben aside from a vague sense of despair, and fear. The crippling fear of a scared boy who felt abandoned and alone; now rationalizing every choice he had since made by the yardstick of that great hurt. And then - a spark of pure hatred. The Dark startled Rey, causing her tenuous grasp on her side of the Bond slip away. And then she was just too tired to try and regain it.

“My loyal apprentice.” Snoke was practically purring. Rey resented that the last thing she would hear would be his oily voice. “I can sense it. You are ready to claim your greatest victory. My Apprentice is raising his saber, ready to strike down his true enemy and become - “

A separate crackle split the air - another lightsaber had been ignited. Rey heard a sloppy, wet thump. Before she could register the noise, her body slammed into the hard durasteel floor headfirst, no longer suspended in the Force. She heard a flurry of boots and all sorts of activity around her, and she struggled to orient herself. The room spun, her body screamed for oxygen. She dragged in a whooping breath, choking and sputtering through a crushed windpipe. The crackle and crash of two sabers together came from her left side, and Rey finally managed to open her eyes.

Through the haze of her own blood she could see her - Master Luke’s - brilliant blue saber, still ignited, laying horizontally on the hideous throne just above Snoke’s lower half. The grotesquely pale torso and head of the Sith Lord had fallen down the steps, his eyes open and unseeing. In death, his twisted mouth was parted, lending him a permanent look of surprise.

A booted foot suddenly landed between her and the tableau of Snoke’s death, and out of reflex Rey shot back and scrambled away. Her nerves screamed at her - every movement was pure agony. Standing was definitely going to be beyond her capabilities for the moment - but getting caught in the crossfire wasn’t going to help her or Ben.

Ben - where was Ben? As Rey crawled behind an overturned table, she spotted his distinctive saber. Ben was fighting all Snoke’s Praetorian Guards at once - and it was a sight to behold. Ferocious and powerful, Ben moved seemingly without plan but his steps were as purposeful as the strong swings of his red-lit blade. Rey knew that no matter how good of a fighter Ben was, eight - oh, wait, seven now - against one was never good odds. She had to help him.

As if to underscore her point, Ben stumbled, and received a long slash down his arm for his mistake. Rey resisted the urge to scream as a faint flit of his pain transferred itself to her own arm via their Bond. Ben was lucky it hadn’t taken his arm. The specter in black growled and thrust his saber through the chest of the man who had wounded him. Viciously yanking the weapon free, Ben twisted to block a downward swing that would have taken his head off. She had to do something.

Of course. She was not powerless. She had the Force - and she had her saber.

Rey stretched out her right hand and called, the cool metal of the still ignited saber smacking into the palm of her hand. Calling upon all her reserves, and a good deal of the Force, she rose to her feet and took a staggering step towards the six remaining men standing in the room. Ben was beginning to weaken. She had to help him. She could save him. She could give Leia Organa back her son. And she would succeed - or she would die trying.

She had not been wrong about Ben Solo. The thought propelled her forward, unsteady steps becoming quicker and the quaking of her limbs turning from pain to purpose.

The scent of burned flesh and death consumed her senses, distracting her. Rey stumbled over the fallen body of a red-cloaked guard, righting herself and pushing forward again. With each painful, faltering step, the conviction in her chest thumped and her resolve swelled to match it.

“I am One with the Force”, she breathed, “and the Force is with me.” It wasn’t something Master Luke had taught her; the words poured out of Rey without her prior knowledge of their arrangement. They flowed through her as the Force did. She was close, very close now, to the whirlwind fight in the center of the room.

Rey raised her saber and she roared, power returning to her limbs as she swung back. The blade struck the guard with more power than she knew she had possessed. Blue lightening buried itself in the red cloak of the Praetorian, swallowed nearly to the hilt. She yanked her weapon back and stepped forward again, crossing over the body of the man she had killed while parrying a blow from above. Sidling up to Ben, she swirled and blocked a lash from landing on his back. The cruel whip crackled with power as her saber held it fast.

Ben noticed her then, unguarded relief flooding his features as he pulled his saber from the chest belonging to the corpse in front of him. That momentary lapse cost him dearly as another guard’s staff bit home, burning a hole through his upper thigh. Ben cried out and stumbled to the ground, his saber down and unable to block the downward swing of the staff towards his head.

Rey roared, the Force flowing from her outstretched palm to slam the guard against the far wall. This felt different, she half recognized. This didn’t feel like training with Master Luke. This was raw. And powerful. She felt vicious, rage collecting in her fingertips and tingling along her spine.

She whirled and spun like a sandstorm, the blue blade of the lightsaber cracking through the air like a lightning bolt. Pulling Ben to his feet, she ducked another snap of a whip, the stinging tip just licking her exposed shoulder. Rey blocked a cutting thrust that would have taken her sword arm before skewering the unfortunate individual whom had swung it. There were three left. She could handle these odds. Her body shook from adrenaline and exhaustion, but she was filled with righteous conviction.

She had been _right_ about Ben Solo.

The man in question yelled and danced forward, burying his saber nearly to the crossguard in the shoulder of the third-to-last man, dragging it downward to nearly split him in two. Rey could sense the fury and fear in his mind, but something else lurked there too.

Vindication.

Ben stumbled again, and Rey could feel the burning ache of his thigh through the Bond. She winced, surprised he was even managing to stand. And then, he wasn’t.

He knelt to the floor as his leg buckled from under him, the red-cloaked man next to him moving in for the kill. Her own saber still occupied with holding back the fizzling blade-end of a staff, Rey leaned against Ben’s broad back, using him as a solid base to twist her torso away from her own menace. A wave of her hand, and the whip-bearing guard was thrown to the floor a few meters away. Rolling to the side, she slid along the floor before turning kick the guard nearest to Ben square in his chest, sending him stumbling before her blade separated his arm from the rest of his torso.

 _End this._ Her panic whispered. _Ben will fall._

A kick in the middle of her back caused her saber to fall from nerveless fingers, disengaged and rolling across the floor.

Despite his own troubles, Ben’s gloved hand stretched out, capturing the escaped hilt. He rolled to the left, dodging a downward stab from a knife.

“Rey!” He roared as he threw the blade her way, blocking another thrust from the knife-wielding guard as he did so.

The hilt smacked into her palm, and Rey righted herself immediately. Rolling to her feet, she dodged another well-placed kick and separated the guard from his weapon with a kick of her own. Rey’s remaining guard reeled, and she stabbed him through the gut just as her feet hit the ground again.

She whirled to face the final attacker, sweat running into her eyes. She was just in time to see the red-cloaked man deliver a glancing blow to the side of Ben’s face. His arm had faltered, slipping downward and allowing the saber-staff to slide along his skin. Her skin cried out in sympathy, sizzling in pain through their link. Rey cried out in chorus with Ben, touching her face despite her best intentions. The dark-cloaked man crumpled to the floor, his lightsaber dropping from his fingers to slide away. Too far for either of them to reach.  

_No._

Rey called upon a strength she didn’t know she still possessed, throwing the man in red away from her bondmate. All the Force she could muster coursed through her fingers, her hands, her arms, and Rey felt her rage rise.

She half ran, half stumbled over to the fallen guard. He was still trying to fight, raising his staff against the small, scrappy desert girl and the glint in her eye. Rey parried his lunges with a shout. _Not Ben. Not now._ He swung his staff, and she leapt upward to avoid her legs being swept out from underneath her. Sweaty hair whipped across her face, salt stinging a cut.

Tuck, and roll, and she was crouched a few feet away from the wary guard, who clearly did not expect this much fight out of a half-killed twenty something girl. Rey smiled wolfishly. She would win. There was no other choice.

She leapt forward from her crouch and drove her blade into the guard’s unprotected chest with a snarl worthy of her worst moments as a feral scavenger on Jakku. Darkness swirled around her shoulders, and she reveled in her victory. The man gurgled in death below her. Rey disengaged her lightsaber and dropped the hilt to the floor, panting heavily.

The room fell silent.

All the adrenaline of the moment gone, Rey loosened her grasp on the Force and sunk to her knees. She spat out a gobbet of blood and wiped her mouth with a shaky hand, wincing as her fingers brushed the bruise that was forming where her cheek struck the deck from her fall. A small trickle of blood had sprung from the wound where it split the skin over her cheekbone, but it was of little consequence. The whip-burn that slashed her shoulder was barely noticeable by comparison to the tremors returning from the waves of purple fire.

Aftershocks were once again wracking her body, even though the lightening - and its caster - were gone. Her breath came in great, sobbing gasps as the enormity of the situation began to sink in. What Kylo - Ben - had done. What she had done. The Darkness she had allowed herself to grasp and what that meant for her, and for Master Luke. Had she failed, even in her victory, by reaching for the Darkness in her instead of the Light?

“Rey.”

Ben’s rasping voice yanked Rey from her trance. She turned to face the man on the floor, a horrified noise escaping her bruised mouth despite her best intentions.

The formerly sterile room behind her was a disaster straight from a nightmare. The red had been stripped from the walls, leaving the black and chrome accents bare. Sparks sizzled and flew through the air, an oddly beautiful contrast to the death that surrounded them. The floor was littered with still-smoking bodies, the fetid stink of burned flesh assaulted her senses.

Ben lay meters from Snoke’s halved body, his red lightsaber extinguished and once more in his grasp. He was panting heavily, trying to master himself but was seemingly unable. He struggled to drag himself upward, met with little success. The large burn on his arm and the hole in his thigh were nearly overshadowed by the wreckage that was the left side of his craggy face. It was impossible to tell the extent of the damage - it was a mass of twisted, burned flesh. Sweat beaded on his brow, paler than usual with exhaustion and pain - but he was alive.

“ _Ben_.” Rey scrambled across the floor, near frantic with her need to reach him. Her hands ached to touch him, an unfamiliar sensation she was too preoccupied to ignore. She reached out with the Bond, only to find that his side had been closed tight. Rey wrapped her fingers gently around his uninjured left arm, tugging him into sitting position with a grunt of effort. Ben barely suppressed a shout of pain as she accidentally brushed his burned right arm trying to support him. Rey propped her back against the throne, her thigh only inches away from the monstrous corpse of her torturer. Ben was halfway supported on her knees, leaning heavily against the small set of steep steps.

Sparks rained around them, somewhere a comm chirruped. Smoke rose to her right, and Rey was afraid.

“Ben, let me in.” Rey whispered, trying to figure out their next moves. She was too weak to move them both, and Ben was in no condition to move himself. She had to get word to Chewie, somehow - but even if she did, how would they rendezvous with him? She had no words to verbalize all of her scattered thoughts. She just needed Ben to hear them - help her make sense of them.

The wounded man shook his head mutely. “Rey, I’m keeping it shut on purpose. I have - my control - my control is gone. I open my side, I’ll flood – pain - emotion.” He sneered at his own weakness, the words ground out through gritted teeth. Rey knew how much he despised showing weakness in any form, and what it cost him to do so.

Rey tightened her fingers on his uninjured arm. She was scared. She had no plan. And she felt alone. Alone on a ship with a murdered dictator and a man she was still not sure she could fully trust, despite everything that lay at their feet.

“What do we do? How do we get out of this? No one knows I’m here - except for Chewbacca on the Falcon and he doesn’t even know where ‘here’ is. I’m sure - I’m sure we don’t have too much time before your friends arrive down here and see - this.” She gestured with a sweeping arm.

“They aren’t my friends.” Ben grunted, motioning with his uninjured arm that he wanted to try to stand. Rey struggled to her feet and turned to try and haul Ben upward. He looked at her and shook his head. “Let me. I’ll only drag you back down with me.”

Ben Solo was easily twice the weight of slight Rey of Jakku, a disadvantage she owed to a distinct lack of nutrition during her formative years. Kylo Ren had emphasized his taller stature as a means of intimidation, and the long hours spent training had turned his formerly skinny frame into a well-muscled one. He could just as easily toss Rey across a room, rather than be helped up by her.

Ben raised himself to his knees, but his burnt right leg gave out from under him. Rey caught him under his arms, trying to ignore how sticky the charred flesh felt under her fingers. The Force tingled in her fingertips, pooling out to eddy and swirl around them. It was trying to tell her something - and she thought she knew what.

“Ben - open the Bond. Let me in. I have an idea - and I can handle myself.”

Ben grunted and shook his head, but when his second attempt at standing ended with him taking a knee again, he relented. Rey felt the pathway between them slide open again. Despite bracing herself, she was nearly knocked over by the intensity of Ben’s pain. Having never experienced a lightsaber injury aside from the minor burn on her shoulder, Rey was unprepared. It was a burning, stinging ache - it smoldered and guttered like a candle-flame. The fire from the weapon licked along the lines of his wound, causing him to feel like the lightsaber lingered in his flesh.

It was a small mercy that a lightsaber cauterized wounds - there was at least no blood to contend with.

“Maker. How are you even conscious?” Rey muttered under her breath.

Ben snorted. “Practice.” He gestured carelessly to the older scar on the right side of his face which bisected his cheek and descended below his clothes. “Don’t you remember?” He panted, grimacing.

Rey winced, not wishing to be reminded of the grievous wound she had inflicted on him the last time they had been physically together. The last true fight she had been in. Regret filled her, an apology tumbling from her mouth before she could stop it. “I’m-”

The dark man cut off her confession with a wave of his hand. “Forget it, Rey.”

Rey swallowed, thinking of all the things that were unsaid between them. The enormity of their situation pressed on her again, but Rey of Jakku knew that to freeze under pressure was to die. She forced her breathing to regulate and her tremors to soften. She focused instead on the man in front of her - and the immediate problem.

The Force moved along Rey’s conscious mind and into Ben’s, and she could feel some of the pain dissipating. Without even registering her actions, she laid her hand gently on his ruined face. Ben spluttered and made as if to wrench away from her touch, but he stilled in fascinated rapture as a soft blue light surrounded Rey’s hand and his face.

Rey’s eyes slid closed, and she felt solely with the Force. Muscle and tendon, blood and bone. The pads of her fingers prickled as burning skin turned cool.

“What are you doing?” Ben whispered, sufficiently awed. Rey gave him no reply, her concentration such that not even his words could shake it. She was drifting along with the Force. Her left hand moved from his shoulder to his thigh, covering the hole in his leg.

“I am One with the Force, and the Force is with me.” Rey intoned softly, a barely audible breathy whisper. A moment’s pause, and she moved her hand from his thigh back to his upper arm. Her right hand remained on his craggy face.

Kylo Ren, newly minted Supreme Leader, closed his eyes and felt Rey’s movements only through the Bond. The Light was coming off her in waves - waterfalls - cascades - and it was like nothing he had ever felt. The searing pain was dimmed, receding as his ruined flesh was knit back together. The unruly Darkness in his consciousness was no longer a roiling river, but a rippled pond. It had been tamed by the infusion of Rey and her Light.

For one of the first times in his life, Ben knew true balance. Reaching for Rey’s consciousness, he rose to drift along with her, basking in the glory of her Light.

Apart from her meditative healing, lurking under the surface he could feel her uncertainty and confusion. Her conflict over what exactly her recent actions had meant, and how the ripples would play out as to herself, to his uncle, and even to him. Her fear that she was losing herself to the Force was an ugly tremor – as was her distrust of the process that is allowing her to mend bone and flesh seemingly without her input or knowledge as to its actual workings. But alongside her worry lies her gentle strength, and to this, the darksider clings.


	2. Chapter 2

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

They fell out of the depths of their connection by stages, slowly coming to awareness as if waking from sleep. Ben – Kylo – shook his head, trying to sort out his groggy head and jumbled thoughts. Rey’s head nodded dozily as she came ‘round, but she met his gaze without fear.

She raised her hand to his face boldly, gently tracing the ridges of scars he would likely bear for life. Her fingers felt warm on his cooled skin, the fire having transplanted itself into his heart. It swelled watching her, drinking in the lines on her face and the worry spot on her lip. _She calls me by my name._ He quashed the thought quickly, reminding himself of their precarious situation.

That was, until she did it again. 

“I told you, Ben Solo.” Rey whispered with a faint smile. Kylo watched her eyes lose focus with some alarm, his hands moving to grip her upper arms tightly in an effort to support her.

“You always have a choice.” Hazel eyes went blank, her body drooping to the side as her consciousness fled. Kylo gripped her tightly, her slight figure suddenly a dead weight. She sagged against him, head lolling on her shoulder. He pulled her body closer, gently smacking her cheek in an attempt to restore her to wakefulness.

Nothing. Kylo pushed away the tickle of panic at the back of his throat – she had been tortured, fought, and then somehow miraculously harnessed the Force to close his wounds. Rey was tired – that’s all it was.

That’s all he would allow it to be.

Kylo Ren gently laid the scavenger girl on her side before he hauled himself to his feet. On shaky legs, he stumbled to the door control panel and locked it from the inside, then used the Force to jam the locking mechanism. Even if their fracas had been heard outside, it would buy them a little time before they had company. He wasn’t sure how long they had been drifting in the Force - it could have been minutes or hours, it felt the same to him. Regardless, he needed to move, and hastily, if he wanted either of them to have a fighting chance.

He intended on them having much more than a mere chance. They were going to live, and together they would end this conflict. He was a man reborn in the ashes, a fire burning in his belly nothing would soon extinguish.

Conviction. Vindication. Resolution. Redemption.

It was a small mercy that this showdown had occurred in Snoke’s throne room on the ship - it connected directly to his quarters. And if Kylo knew the wily old Muun at all, there would be access to some form of escape pod or shuttle via those quarters. Snoke may have been blinded by ambition, but he had not been a fool.

He shuffled past the bodies of three Praetorian guards to a door on the left side of the room - the only other door - which Kylo surmised was the way to Snoke’s rooms - or perhaps, just a closet. Either way, there wasn’t much of a choice to be made. He gently pressed the button to open the door, fingers on his saber hilt ready to ignite if trouble lay inside.

Luck - or perhaps the Force - was with him today, and the door opened to reveal Snoke’s private rooms as he suspected. And even better, they were unoccupied by any lower level staff who may have happened to be inside tending to the capricious whims of the former leader.

He limped inside, curiosity getting the better of him as he scanned the ostentatious rooms. Giant windows to let in the starlight made up the walls of the chamber, and the bed was bigger than any Ben had seen in recent memory. Lush fabrics and coverings draped the soft surfaces, while everything else was stark grey and white. The floor was covered by an expansive white plush carpet that both amused and baffled him. The image of Snoke walking about barefoot on a fluffy carpet was so incongruent with the monster who held him captive; the arbiter of his torture.

A bar with an assortment of expensive - and sometimes illegal - liquors lay along the left side of the room, next to the slightly ajar door leading to the ‘fresher and closet. Now that, he had no trouble accepting.

And out of the right-side window he could see an imperial TIE Advanced docked and lying in wait. Good old Snoke. Of course, the paranoid old fucker would have an escape craft ready to take him anywhere in the galaxy.

Perfect.

The man who had been known as Kylo Ren limped to Snoke’s private bar and poured himself a double of the most expensive shot he could manage to locate, breaking open the wax seal with a wave of his fingers. He downed it in one quick gulp, relishing the sting of the alcohol as it slid down his throat. It truly was a fine bottle - the flavors of the liquor were warming and well spiced. Only a moment’s consideration lead to him tucking the small bottle into his greatcoat pocket. _Fuck Snoke_ , he thought. _I’m taking this with me_.

He was making his way to a small door on the right side of the room - it had to be the way to the TIE - when he heard the lock of the throne room door be tested. 

“... Supreme Leader?” General Hux’s grating whine came through loud and clear, and Kylo cursed under his breath. _Fuck General Hux, too._

“Supreme Leader, you’re nearly an hour late for our meeting. Have I done something to displease you?” The ginger menace pacing outside the door was groveling, and Kylo began to panic. Suddenly, there was no time to plan. Rey’s words rang in his ears - ‘no one knows I’m here, except for Chewbacca on the Falcon.’ The Wookie didn’t even know the location of the Supremacy - Rey had struck out on her own to keep him safe. How had they been planning to rendezvous then? Foolish girl.

Ben entered the throne room again and knelt beside Rey’s still form. She was deep asleep - completely spent from her prolonged connection to the Force in his healing, and from her own torture under Snoke’s Force lightening. Kylo swallowed back his fear, trying once against to cajole her awake. Only her faint breath on the back of his hand and her strong and steady pulse assured him that she was even still living. She slept like the dead.

“Fuck, Rey.” He growled. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” He had so much he needed to say - but now those words were going to go unsaid. He began to gently inspect her clothing for any sort of tracker or comm device. His face reddened - it felt dirty, even though his motives are good. “I’m just looking for a way to talk to Chewbacca - if you can even hear me.” There. If she could indeed hear him, all was well.

In her right hip pocket, practically sewn into her clothing, he found a small homing beacon set to “off” and almost whooped with joy before quieting himself. He was giddy and nervous in a way he hadn’t been in years, his limbs jittery with unspent energy.

More footfalls clattered outside the door. Hux was becoming worried, and it was only a matter of time before they broke down the door, Supreme Leader’s wrath or not. He could hear the chirrup of comms being ignored all over the room. Corpses did tend to have a hard time responding to calls.

He had to get Rey out. There was no possible, conceivable way she could stay now. Not after… this. How it had gone down.

Gathering Rey into his arms, he stumbled as quickly as he could manage through Snoke’s personal quarters and into the small passageway on the right side that lead to the private dock. The dock was small, but well-appointed. He noted the nearby computer terminal for controlling the launches and arrivals – a perfect way to bypass the bridge controls. Luck was surely with them today. He quickly keyed in the master override code for the lock - being in command of the Finalizer came with many perks - and carried Rey inside the TIE.

Laying her small body carefully in the pilot’s chair, the black-cloaked man surveyed the controls with a practiced eye. Thank the Maker this girl was a capable pilot. Once she awoke, she would be well set. This TIE was responsive and quick - fast enough to get her well away from any trouble she could find, and hopefully back to the Resistance in one piece. To Chewie - to his Mother, and Uncle Luke. To his family.

A part of him wished he was running back into the arms of his mother, as well - a part that Kylo was now far more willing to entertain than he had in nearly fifteen years. Was nearly thirty-one years old too old to wish you had your mother’s forgiveness? Her understanding?

A shake of his shaggy head cleared away the thought. He would likely never see her again - it wouldn’t matter. She would never forgive him for the murder of his father.

In his heart, Kylo had known from the moment of their victory that Rey would have to leave alone, but it didn’t make sending her off any easier. He had to stay behind and ensure her TIE was not blasted from the sky. Even with the ship’s cloaking, he couldn’t take the chance of escaping with her. The impulse to protect her was so strong as to be practically suffocating – she was his Light.

Noble reasoning aside, it truly was a single person craft. And no one could possibly predict the sort of welcome he would receive with the Resistance, even with the darling of his Jedi uncle vouching for him. No, they would rip her away from him and imprison him for certain. And then Kylo would be truly helpless.

It’s not something that sat well with him. He would have to take the chance that he could salvage the situation here. A wicked idea was already forming in his head - one that would satisfy both his darker impulses and his intrinsic desire to find the Light - a desire which he had been suffocating for near decades now. It was a long game, but one he was willing to play. 

A distracted wave of his fingers, and the silver hilt of her lightsaber skittered across the floor from where it had fallen to smack into his open palm. Kylo placed it in her hands once more – one less thing for her to worry about.

He plunked the expensive bottle of booze between Rey’s slim thighs on the seat and grabbed the datapad hanging from the left wall. After typing out a brief message, he curled her fingers around the small tablet. She wouldn’t understand. But this was for the best. He would have to explain fully later - if she let him.

He knew the scrappy scavenger girl would be fighting mad at him – it was endearing in a strange way. No one had cared enough to be truly mad at him in that manner for quite some time. There was a disappointed simmer of anger turned into hatred and bitterness from his family, and the sharp bite of disapproval from Hux and his cadre - but to have someone mad enough at him to argue and fight him was a treasure. That meant there was _emotion_ involved.

Kylo quickly began the warm up cycle for the TIE and programmed a jump to hyperspace several star systems away from here. He cut the ships cloaking device on, activated Rey’s tracker, and placed it beside the bottle of liquor. He could feel the engines cycling up, and he knew his time was limited. He hesitated, overthought, and almost didn’t - but in the end, he brushed his gloved hand along Rey’s messy brunette hair before striding through the door and shutting it for good. She’d never know. It would be the last sentimental action he could allow himself for a long time, if his plan was to succeed.

Ben Solo sent Rey away in the TIE fighter, but Kylo Ren used the computer terminal to redirect the eyes of any of the bridge crew to something far less significant - an unscheduled trash dump.

He stepped out of Snoke’s quarters, locking the door behind him. Kylo leaned down to reclaim his discarded mask, using it now to obscure the unexplainably healed ruin of his face, brand-new scars resembling ones that had lived on his skin for closer to decades. He allowed himself a moment to regain his balance, then with as much bravado as he could muster he answered the throne room door.

A baffled General Hux and seven stormtroopers stared him down as he unlocked the jammed door and loomed in the doorway, projecting as much anger and power as Snoke always had.

“The Supreme Leader is dead.” He growled through the vocorder in his mask. He gestured to himself, his smirk unseen behind the mask, as he uttered the phrase. “Long Live the Supreme Leader.”


	3. Chaper 3

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

When Rey awoke, it was in a small, dingy room with a faintly flickering overhead light. The room was cold, but that alone told Rey nothing. Spending her life in a desert had made everything else seem cold by comparison. The bed she was in was clean and soft - if not a bit worn. She was still wearing the dark grey clothes she had been wearing on the Supremacy, but her feet were bare.

Rey looked to her right and was met with the concerned brown-furred face of her self-appointed bodyguard, Chewbacca. Her friend. The Wookie roared softly and held his giant arms out in a welcoming gesture. Rising as quickly as she could manage from the bed, Rey gladly folded herself into his offered embrace. There wasn’t much else like being hugged by a Wookie - it was literally being loved to death. Rey found that after a lifetime of loneliness, it was almost always exactly what she needed.

It certainly was right now.

Her bare feet scuffed on the dusty floor as Chewbacca lifted her off the ground slightly. He couldn’t help it - she was a good two feet shorter than him. Rey patted what she could reach of the Wookiee’s back awkwardly as he rumbled meaningless noises against her head. “I’m all right, pal. I’m all right.” Rey soothed, somewhat breathlessly.

 _“You came back!”_ Chewie roared gratefully. “ _But where is Little Ben? Did he not want to return with you?”_ Even after all Ben Solo had done, Chewie’s deep loyalty would not let him forget the little boy whom he had helped to raise.

“Ben’s... he’s not here?” Rey said in alarm. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. “He left me?” She squeaked out, letting her fear of abandonment - Jakku - get the better of her. Suddenly, she was once again five years old and watching the shuttle that brought her to that desert wasteland become an even smaller dot on the horizon.

Why did he leave her? Was her sacrifice all for nothing? She tightened her fingers in the Wookiee’s long fur, causing Chewbacca to adjust his grip somewhat. Rey noticed with a small smile that he made no moves to release her.

 _“Little Ben did not return with you.”_ The Wookie rumbled, “ _but I do not think it was his choice. He activated your tracker. He sent you very far away. It took me two days to reach you._ _You were still sleeping. You were very sick. I took you to Princess. She has made you better.”_ The Wookiee said confidently. _“You are better now.”_

Rey stopped for a moment and took stock of her body. Where there had been tremors and aches and pains, they had faded. She touched the bruise on her forehead - it was still sore, but no longer an acute pain like a fresh wound. Her shoulder had dulled to a quiet ache, and the bruises circling her wrists from the tight binders she had worn in the lift were faded to a sick greenish-yellow. Trying to think back to the last thing she remembered was a fruitless exercise – it was only Ben’s eyes in a ruined face, the looping audio of Master Luke’s admonition roaring unquietly in her ears. Time felt muddled.

“Chewie, how long have I been... sick?” Rey had a feeling she wasn’t going to like the answer.

 _“It has been seven standard cycles since I left you next to the Supremacy,_ ” Chewie growled low, “ _and four days since we returned to Princess. You have been sleeping since I found you. Little Ben was lucky. He sent you to a star system close to the base. Princess thinks that means we should move. I do not.”_ Chewbacca’s opinions were always blissfully free of guile or intrigue. He just didn’t have it in him to be deceptive with those he regarded as friends.

A week. Fuck. Rey shook her head. “We don’t need to leave the base, Chewie. Ben won’t send the First Order after us. He’s on our side. He killed Snoke. He turned.” Even as Rey said those words, she felt them ring hollow. Had he really turned, or was this another smokescreen on his part?

“Chewie, I need to see the TIE he sent me in. Did he leave a message, anything?” Rey felt her side of the Bond, but it was sore, like an old bruise or a loose tooth. She couldn’t feel Ben’s presence anywhere. The knowledge settled uneasily in her stomach.

 _“The TIE is gone. But Little Ben left a message.”_ Chewbacca gently released Rey from his embrace and padded across the dingy room to a cabinet by the door. He picked up a First Order datapad and the expensive bottle of liquor and handed them over to Rey. “ _Princess did not understand. She did not show Little Ben’s message to anyone else. Princess wanted to talk to you when you were better.”_

Rey took the datapad from the Wookie with trembling fingers. Two taps on the screen woke up the device and revealed Ben’s hastily written message.

_Rey. I took my shot. Take yours, and when we meet again, we can share a drink instead. I made my choice._

The brief note was signed as Supreme Leader Ben Organa Solo.

Rey held the bottle up to the light for closer inspection. The seal had been broken and what looked like a sizeable dram had been taken from the bottle. She did not recognize the label or intricate etchings around the bottle, but it seemed expensive. “I don’t really understand it either, Chewie.” She sighed, handing the bottle back to the Wookie. “What do you make of this?”

 _“Whyren’s Reserve. Very rare and expensive Corellian whiskey. Not easy to obtain_.” Chewie seemed very distant as he studied the bottle in his furry hand, which made Rey realize that he was probably thinking of Han. Wincing internally, Rey thought again of the complicated familial web she had managed to get herself tangled in. It was like the universe was trying to make up for her own lack of family by drowning her in the drama of the Skywalkers.

Rey stayed silent, letting Chewbacca have his memories in peace. The brown-furred alien looked lost in a lifetime of remembrances. Rey realized with a start that his mottled fur was becoming streaked with grey. It had been nearly a year since Han’s death at the hands of his son, but the wounds from this betrayal had yet to heal into scars. It had aged everyone - but perhaps Chewbacca especially so.

Rey watched the giant Wookiee in silence, wishing not for the first time that there was something she could do. But there wasn’t. Han was gone, and Ben had killed him. Even if she was successful in bringing Ben back to the Light - she couldn’t bring Han back. This was beyond her capability to fix.

 _“Princess wished to see you.”_ The Wookie said softly, at length. He handed Rey back her mystery bottle of liquor. “ _Are you ready?”_

Rey unconsciously clasped the bottle to her chest, feeling both connected and so, so separated from the man who had left it with her. “Ben said to have a drink. Would you like to share one with me? I think ... I think I need a drink before I see General Organa.” Rey ran her hand through her oily hair and grimaced. “And a trip through the ‘fresher. And clean clothes.”

Chewie chuckled softly. Rey gave him a pat on the arm and handed over the bottle of whiskey. “I’ll just be a minute. Scare up some glasses, will you?” She departed through the door to the ‘fresher without a backward glance.

If she had looked back, she would have seen Chewbacca watching her with a strange expression on his furry face. The Wookiee trilled softly and turned to look for the requested glasses.

Rey shut the door to the ‘fresher and cut on the steam. As the small room warmed up to a tolerable temperature, Rey studied her face in the rapidly fogging mirror. The huge bruise on her face had faded to a disgusting mass of blue, green, and yellow. The cut across her cheekbone where the skin had split from her impact on the floor had healed – presumably with the help of a Bacta patch. A small red scar remained, but it would fade with time. Rey closed her eyes, thinking of the scars, both old and new, on Ben’s face. Almost involuntarily, she reached out to their connection, probing it gently as one would a sore tooth.

_Ben? Are you there? Can you hear me? Ben, please respond. Why are you blocking me? Why did you send me away and not come with me?_

_Was... was I wrong?_ She said the last part in a small, timid voice, quite unlike how she was accustomed to acting. Rey of Jakku was anything but timid. Timidity and hesitation had meant death in the desert, so they were not a large part of her. But this new situation she found herself in - caught in the middle of a war, of a family fighting amongst itself, and the strange power she had found in the Force - she found herself out of her depth and more fearful than she had in years. Fearful and lost. Two things that Rey of Jakku was extremely unhappy with feeling.

When she realized that Ben would not be responding to her, she cast her eyes downward with a sigh. Disappointment welled up like a font - she was acting like a lovesick child. And she wasn’t even in love. She was in chains. Held fast - imprisoned in truth - by a strong Bond she never asked for but found herself forced into anyways. Was she so starved for affection and connection that she would embrace the scraps that offered by this man - this fallen Jedi - that she barely knew? Rey knew the answer was yes, and she hated that she even answered the question. The pull and tug in her stomach could answer for her alone. She was a foolish little girl.

She stripped with jerky movements and stepped into the ‘fresher, letting the warm steam and water chase the chill of space from her bones. The water dripped down her body, tracing the contours of her sunken collarbones and protruding hip-bones. Her knobby knees and bony ankles. Rey had yet to grow into womanly curves - a lifetime of starvation had completely wrecked her metabolism, and even after a year of more consistent food and better nutrition she still had a long way to go before she resembled something most would consider a normal figure.

Truly, nothing about Rey of Jakku was normal. Orphaned desert rat, graceless and unaccustomed to civilized life. Dusty scavenger girl, hardened by a lifetime of abuse and accustomed to mistrusting everyone she met. Part owner of a Force Bond with a darksider who had murdered his own father; who had destroyed a temple full of force-sensitive children. Student of the last of the Jedi, who had sent his own nephew into the arms of the Darkness and ultimately to his bond with Rey herself. Erstwhile member of this new Resistance, and on the run from the First Order with the estranged mother of her bondmate, who was now the same man who now ran the war machine they were fighting against.

“Maker, but am I ever _fucked_.” Rey groaned, running a wet palm over her face. While soaping her hair, she released a colorful string of profanities in Huttese that would have made Chewie blush visibly - even under all that fur. Jakku had also given Rey a filthy mouth along with a distinct lack of social graces, but the kindhearted Leia Organa was at least helping her on the latter front. Finn and Poe had been far more amused at her dirty language than her social awkwardness.

Rey supposed she had things to be grateful for, after all. She had friends – ones who felt like family.

She turned off the ‘fresher and dried off with a ratty tan colored towel that had seen better days. Realizing belatedly that she hadn’t brought fresh clothes into the room with her, Rey cast her eyes skyward. Her choices were either to ask Chewie for new clothes or walk into her quarters in a towel in front of the Wookiee. Which was going to be worse? She had no idea.

“Chewie?” She called tentatively. No response. “Chewie?” A little louder this time. Still nothing. Maybe he had left in search of glasses for that much-needed drink. Potential walk of shame it was, then.

Rey pushed open the door from the ‘fresher, covered as much as she could by her tatty towel. No Chewie. Safe for now.

She crossed the room in two large strides as the freezing air of space once again sucked the warmth from her bones. Maker, but she hated the cold of space.

She held her towel with one hand and rummaged through the sparsely stocked closet on the far side of the room. A few pilot’s uniforms hung up, but all in sizes far too large for her. Some other clothes were tucked into a built-in drawer, and Rey began to sort through them. Luck was with her as she grabbed a pair of dark grey leggings in a size that would suit, and a mossy green tunic which was overlarge but manageable. Her bindings and undergarments would need to be washed - there was nothing in the closet that would work on those fronts. She would go without while they dried.

“Rey!” The happy, gravelly voice of General Organa nearly startled Rey into dropping her towel. She spun around with a small squeak of surprise, clutching the new clothes and towel to her chest tightly.

“G-General Organa.” Rey said, startled but pleased to see the diminutive woman. Her long, grey hair was twisted into another elaborate style that Rey wished she could duplicate with her own. The General’s face was always shadowed in what seemed like perpetual grief and worry, but today she wore a bright smile that seemed to indicate just how pleased the older woman was to see Rey had returned to her. “I was just -”

The General waved her off. “Rey, it’s just Leia. I have enough people calling me General Organa. Please humor an old lady.” She smiled up at Rey. “I see I’ve interrupted. Please go get comfortable. Chewie’s waiting just outside. He had gone to fetch me.” Rey spotted the three glasses on the small side table then and smirked to herself. The Wookiee wouldn’t lie, but he could plot.

General Organa - Leia - settled on the edge of the bed, the only real place to sit in the room. “I’m quite comfortable here. Go, get changed. Then we can have a drink. I think we are all going to need that drink.”

Rey nodded. “I’ll be right back, General - ma’am - Leia.” Maker, this woman was intimidating even when she wasn’t trying to be. Rey hustled back into the ‘fresher and shut the door behind her gently before dropping her towel and exploding into activity. Throwing her bindings and undergarments into the sink for a quick soapy rinse, they were shortly plopped on the towel bar to dry once wrung of their moisture. Two wriggling jumps pulled on the grey leggings - mercifully free of holes or suspect bloodstains - and she then focused on wrapping the tunic so that no one knew she was bare underneath. Without thinking, she tugged her hair into the trio of buns she often wore on Jakku. It was a young girl’s style, but one she could manage with some grace.

A quick look in the mirror told her she was passable for company. She rolled the large sleeves of tunic up, so they wouldn’t drag over her hands, and stepped out of the ‘fresher barefoot. Her grey boots had vanished, but right now she was far more worried about what waited for her on the other side of the door.

Leia remained perched on the side of the bed, while Chewie leaned against a nearby wall. They were conversing quietly - even with the Wookiee’s usually loud speech, Rey couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. She padded over softly to the bed and sat to Leia’s right hand side. Ben Solo’s mother smiled kindly at her and gestured to the bottle of liquor resting innocently on the small stool that Chewie had found. Three mismatched glasses sat next to it. “I haven’t had Whyren whiskey in oh - decades, easily. Han brought back a bottle from one of his adventures a long time ago. I knew better than to ask how he got it!” The General laughed, but there was a sadness there, too. Everyone missed Han Solo.

“I am looking forward to trying it again. Would you like to do the honors?”

Rey declined with a shake of her head, afraid she would overpour or spill the apparently rare booze and not trusting her hands to stay steady. Even now, they fluttered in her lap. Leia looked down at Rey’s folded hands and seemed to notice her discomfort about their shakiness. Without another word about it, she deftly poured three generous glasses of the spirit, and passed them around. Chewie snuffed his tumbler and growled appreciatively. Rey sniffed hers - it seemed to be the thing to do - and wound up with a tickle in her nose for her troubles.

Leia simply took a small sip and smiled. Her eyes were closed. Rey didn’t need to be in her thoughts to know she was recalling better times.

Rey lifted her glass and took her own tentative sip. The spirit was good - it tasted of earth and trees and spices. Nothing like the backwater swill she had been used to on Jakku. She felt the drink warm her from the inside out, chasing away the cold of space. She smiled and thought of Ben taking a similar drink and feeling the same warmth.

Leia set down her empty glass at length, and regarded Rey with clear, bright eyes. Rey met her gaze for a moment then cast her own eyes down to her hands. There was so much to say - where should she begin? “Gen - Leia; there’s just so much - have you spoken to Master Luke? Has he contacted you?” Rey ventured hopefully. Perhaps she got lucky and Master Luke had filled his sister in on some key points himself, so she wouldn’t have to recount them. They could wind up in her quarters all night if not.

Leia nodded, her smile fading and her braids gently tapping the back of her neck in the process. “He explained about your training. He called you “a wickedly persistent little guttersnipe”, but I believe he meant it as a compliment. He told me precious little regarding the Bond, though not much is known about Force Bonds in general, spontaneous ones especially. He’s left Ahch-to, Rey - he’s coming back. But first he’s making another stop.”

Leia paused, her deep brown eyes now flecked with worry. “He’s fishing for information on that damned Bond, but I told him just to come here and we’d sort it out together - never mind.” She waved her hand as if to dismiss both that train of thought and her reservations regarding it. “That’s the salient points I think. Why don’t you fill me in on the rest?”

Rey took a deep, steadying breath. This was going to be a long night. She closed her eyes, felt with the Force, and let the story pour from her. How she had resisted the Bond at first, resenting and fearing the intrusion on her life and the possible ramifications from one of the leaders of the First Order being in her head while she was in such proximity to Master Luke. How she hid the link from him - first out of fear for Luke’s safety, then out of fear _of_ him as Ben explained how he had come to take up the mantle of Kylo Ren. How upset she had been when Luke confirmed his grievous error in judgment. How conflicted she had been - how she could sense the doubt and fear in the heart of her hated enemy, and how the Light in her the rose to answer it. The compassion he elicited from her. The hope.

Her eyes remained closed, and she could feel hot tears making their way out from beneath her lids as the rest of her tale poured out. The fight with Master Luke, which she regretted the fierceness of if not the intent behind it. The deep sense of regret that the trusting relationship with her master was likely beyond repair. The flight away from Ahch-To with what Leia jumped in and called an “obscene” number of porgs on board the Falcon.

Apparently, they had scattered all over the base and people were finding them everywhere, refusing to be caught. Chewie only chuckled at that pronouncement. Rey managed a short laugh at the image, but the sadness that was weighing her down refused to be abated.

She found herself, eyes still shut, sitting on the stool which formerly held the Whyren whiskey and glasses. She was in front of the General Leia Organa as the erstwhile Princess gently took down Rey’s trio of buns and smoothed her fingers through her damp brunette hair. A comb was produced from some pocket, and for the first time in Rey’s memory, she felt a mother’s fingers in her hair. Combing it, smoothing it, styling it.

As Rey told her tale of her time on the Supremacy, of the urgent conversation in an elevator that had dared her to hold on to hope, even through her imprisonment and torture by Snoke, she could feel the beginning of a braid take shape on the left side of her neck. By the time she reached the part where Ben used Luke’s saber to free himself from Snoke, she could feel Leia’s fingers still their movements just above her left ear. As she spoke of Ben’s desperate fight against the eight Praetorian guards, her part in it, her call to the Darkness inside herself, Leia’s fingers were brushing the crown of her head, deftly twining strands of hair. And when she softly told Leia and Chewie of the last thing she remembered - of drifting in the Force to heal Ben’s ravaged face and body, of not know how or why she was capable of doing it, just that it was _necessary_ , the hot drop of a tear landed on a patch of exposed skin at the nape of her neck.

Leia silently tucked the end of Rey’s braid into itself, securing it gently and tightly with one of her own hairpins. The story had been told. The spell had been broken, but the silence in the room was a heavy blanket that no one felt comfortable removing. The air was still and reverent.

In the end, it was Leia who spoke first. “Can... can you speak with him now? With Ben?” She sounded so hopeful that it pained Rey to shake her head no.

“I’ve tried. It’s like the connection was... bruised somehow. It’s tender. It’s still there, but I can’t get though. It’s not gone - but I can’t tell if the problem is because it’s been damaged or if Ben is blocking me out. We can do that - for a time, anyways, it’s difficult to resist something so strong. All I can do is wait and keep trying.”

Leia nodded mutely and allowed herself a small smile. “You don’t know how good it is to hear someone call him Ben again, Rey.” She said softly. “It’s almost like he’s still alive.”

Rey looked puzzled. “Ben _is_ alive. He’s still in there. Kylo Ren surely wouldn’t have rescued me. Ben Solo did that. I don’t pretend to know how we reconcile the two - or how we move forward from this - but Ben Solo is very much alive.”

 _“And apparently the leader of the First Order._ ” Chewie added skeptically. He pointed to the datapad with a furry paw.

“I know, Chewie. I’m just as perplexed about that as you.” Rey said, running her hand down her face and clearing the drying tear tracks away.

“I’m not.” Leia said softly. “It’s one of two things. Either Ben is going to attempt to act as a double agent in his new role and scuttle the First Order, or Kylo Ren is playing us all and has gotten exactly what he wanted - the trust of a Force-sensitive girl who is close with the last of the Jedi and resides at the heart of the Resistance.” Leia looks downcast. “And we will have no way of knowing which it is till it’s too late.”

Rey shook her head vehemently. “No. No, I know him, General - Leia. I know there is good in him still. I’ve _felt_ it.”

“Where have I heard those words before?” A new voice from the doorway startled the three of them, and a shadowy figure leaned casually against the doorframe, the hood of his cloak still covering his features. But that voice - it was hard to forget. Especially when Rey had heard it in her nightmares.


	4. Chapter 4

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

“Luke!” Leia cried, rising from her perch on the side of the bed and crossing the space between herself and her brother in three large steps. She grasped Luke’s arms and looked up at him with an expression of pure joy. He grinned down at her, his smile smoothing decades of wrinkles from his face. The years melted away, and all the death and pain and unsaid words and regret that should have hung between them evaporated, and it was simply a reunion of siblings long accustomed to being separated by circumstances beyond their control.

The General and the Jedi became the princess and the farm-boy once again, and for a moment Rey could _see_ them in the Force, as she had never known them. The sandy-haired youth, missing his facial scars and the deep grey beard. His hands, both flesh and bone, gripped his sister’s arms in an embrace she returned willingly. Leia’s dark brown hair was rolled into a bun on either side of her head - a style that hadn’t been worn in decades. They couldn’t be any older than Rey herself was now. She blinked, and her vision was gone.

Chewie roared loudly and made ambling steps over to the Jedi Knight. Luke released his sister to be caught in the crushing embrace of the Wookiee. “Oh, hi Chewie. Yes, yes, it’s been a while. I’m good pal... I’m good.” As a connoisseur of crushing Wookiee hugs, Rey recognized Luke’s expression to mean that Chewie was making up for the past few years, despite having seen him on the island during the year Rey had lived alongside him.

“Master Luke.” Rey said softly, trying to decide if she was going to meet his gaze evenly or bow her head in submission. Her hasty departure from Ahch-To had been fraught with anger - on both sides, she thought. Even now, she could hear the twisted nightmare whisper of the Jedi’s voice coiling around her memories, a ghastly twisted echo of his reticent nature.

 _“_ Rey.” The Jedi smiled kindly, the soft expression relieving her anxiety somewhat. “It’s good to see you. It’s even better to see that you are well.”

“I know that we parted on bad terms, Master Luke, but... I wanted... I just...” Rey struggled to justify her actions, but she felt like she was already spent from telling her story to the Wookiee and General. She wasn’t sure there was another rendition left in her at this moment. She raised her hands in the air and allowed them to drop back down to her side artlessly. “I just - I don’t have the words.” Rey cast her eyes down to her bare feet and borrowed leggings, ashamed of her actions towards the older Jedi, as well as her inability to explain them.

Luke smiled, gently patting the arm of the Wookiee who refused to release his shoulder. “You won’t need them. I was watching you three for longer than you realize.” His tone was kind, and Rey felt some of her anxiety over reconciling with the Jedi evaporate. Of course, the old Jedi Master would be better at reconciling his feelings. Rey was surely making a mess of her own.

Chewie finally released Luke’s shoulder, and the Jedi strode confidently into Rey’s quarters and closed the door on the four of them with a small wave of his hand. It was getting quite cramped in there.

Rey cocked her head. “Master Luke - you just used the Force. I thought…”

Luke waved her off. “We will talk later, Rey. There’s much to discuss.” Luke shot a meaningful glance towards his sister, and then turned his gaze to the crown braid that Leia had twisted into Rey’s hair. Luke smiled. “Sister, I haven’t seen you sport this braid on yourself since before Ben was even born.”

Leia laughed, a wan sort of chuckle. “You’ve barely even seen me since Ben was born. But, you are right. One of the last times I had my hair like this was Endor. It always seemed more of a wartime style than a peaceful one. Rey wears it quite well.”

Rey got a sort flash of vision, then - of a younger Leia, her long brown hair pulled and tugged into this same braid with two additional coils at the nape of her neck - Leia did have quite a lot of hair. She was smiling up at the roguishly handsome Han Solo, his shaggy hair dark brown instead of silver-grey. ‘ _Oh Han, it’s not like that at all. He’s my brother.’_ Leia’s faint voice breezed in and out through Rey’s consciousness almost too fast for her to register.

Luke walked up to Rey, looking her up and down as if he was inspecting her. Perhaps he was. Could he sense the whispers of the past she kept receiving? Rey pondered this as she tracked his movement towards her.

He studied the bruising on her face more closely than was likely strictly necessary. He grasped her wrists and turned them over, frowning at the yellow marks he saw circling them. “Why did you not heal yourself?” Luke asked then, looking up to meet her eyes with his sharp blue ones. “Why heal Kylo, but not yourself?”

“I wasn’t consciously aware of exactly how I was healing Ben - much less how I could turn it inwardly. Besides - he had a gaping hole in his thigh and his face was destroyed. My hurts were minor by comparison.” _And I couldn’t bear to feel his pain_ , a small voice inside her said. But this, she did not vocalize.

The old Jedi shook his head. “You nearly drained yourself of your own power between healing him and sustaining yourself. Not to mention pouring out through the Force Bond under the lightening. Someone with a weaker connection to the Force would have died under Snoke’s hand far before Kylo took the opportunity to murder him. You are very, very fortunate, Rey. More fortunate than you or even I probably realize. That’s also why you slept for a solid week - your own essence was so depleted, you essentially slipped into a coma.”

He his gaze held hers, and Rey could see the truth in his steel-blue eyes. “Rey, let me help you still. I can help you to focus, to keep yourself stable. It’s going to be important, especially if you have Ren in your head.” His eyes clouded over at the mention of his nephew, and Rey’s anger built in response. He had heard her story - did he not understand? It was _Ben_ , not Kylo Ren, who had taken up residence in her mind.

“You don’t understand -” she began, but the Jedi cut her off quickly with a stiff wave of his mechanical hand.

“I absolutely understand.” He rumbled. “You think that I don’t know how it feels to be seduced by the dark side of the Force? To feel its power? I lost my nephew, and I will not lose you too.” _You promised._ A memory, a crackle of firelight and smoke, an honest conversation reverent and half-whispered. The words hung unsaid in the air, but Rey heard them all the same.

A flash, and then Rey saw a younger Skywalker, clad in black. His features were illuminated by the clash of a red and green saber. A hideous, wrinkled man in a cloak of deep black - a Sith, something whispered to her - cackled manically from his perch on a throne behind the crossed blades. “ _Good. Let your hate flow through you.”_ The same gravelly voice that ground out the grating laughter rasped those words to Luke as the young Jedi pushed his saber ever closer to that of his father.

Rey stumbled backwards, breaking Luke’s gaze and raising a hand to her head. “Of course. Your father.” She whispered, closing her eyes and concentrating, trying to bring the past forward behind her darkened eyes. The back of her knees hit the bed, forcing her to sit.

Words came to her, and she intoned them nearly mechanically, lost in her trance. “Your overconfidence is your weakness.” The retort from Luke’s shade startled her; a younger, bolder ricochet of his soft-spoken present tone. The chewed-gravel growl came again from the cloaked figure of the hidden Sith Lord. “Your faith in your friends is yours.” Rey watched the parries and thrusts, and wicked arching of the blades as the duel progresses behind her unseeing eyes.

What she didn’t see was the blood drain from Luke’s face as she parroted back words he hadn’t heard in over thirty years. “Your feelings are strong, especially for... sister.” A pause, Rey gasped for air and ground out, “Obi-Wan was wise to hide her from me. Now his failure is complete. If you will not turn to the dark side, perhaps she will.”

“Never.” Rey, Luke, and the past intoned together, and her eyes flew open in shock as the vision disappeared. The Force around her snapped and crackled, tendrils reaching towards the Jedi who stood aghast only a foot from her. Rey was panting, heart fluttering like a prey animal confronted with a predator.

Luke sat down hard on the bed next to Rey, running a hand over his salt-and-pepper beard. Rey noticed it was marginally neater since the last time she had seen him, just slightly over a week ago. He gave her a sidelong glance, grumbling something about discussing it later in a frosty tone that booked no argument. Rey was nearly put in the mind of a father scolding his child in public, but she could not sense any rebuke in Luke’s tone - only fear.

The Jedi then rose to his feet and began to pace in her cramped room. Leia eyed him skeptically from her perch on the small stool which had been scooted into the corner. Rey wondered if Leia could sense the same curious blankness from Luke that she did. The General was force-sensitive, after all. Even if Luke had tapped back into the Force, it seemed that he was still not embracing it fully.

“I can’t see the path forward through this.” Luke mused darkly. “We don’t know nearly enough about Force Bonds to be able to control this situation. They are rare when they are initiated under the agreement and direction of the two parties, and nearly unprecedented when spontaneous. I’ve learned some - not enough. Enough to scare me.”

 _Everything scares you, now._ Rey mused sadly. The Resistance needed the brash farm boy - the need the legend, not the man who shut himself off from the Force rather than confront a stain on his soul. In that moment Rey realized as much as she needed to learn from Luke, Luke would also need to learn from her. An equilibrium, an understanding between the two of them. The thought brought her peace. She continued to calm her breathing. Calm meant survival. Panic meant death. As always, her learned pathways brought her back to desert sands and wastelands.

Luke continued his pacing, pausing at the door to the ‘fresher as if listening to the water drip from the faucet. “And as I am sure it’s obvious to everyone in this room - Rey is an extremely powerful force-user. This situation is a bomb, and we are just sitting here waiting to see if it will go off. There are too many variables and far too much at stake to rush in blindly.”

Rey opened her mouth to protest but closed it without uttering a sound. Something inside her - call it a conviction - silenced her argument. She sat still and observed.

Leia straightened, brushing out the skirt of her dove-grey robes and looking no small bit worried. “We must take all this before the Council. They deserve to have all the facts on the table before we take any further action. Rey - I’m sorry, but until we can all come to some sort of agreement or plan, I’m going to have to ask you to stay in your room, and to alert myself or Luke if you hear anything from Kylo - Ben.” She corrected herself hastily.

Rey opened her mouth to protest but was stalled by Leia’s raised hands asking for another moment of patience. “In the meantime, we will be working to corroborate the facts of your story - not that we disbelieve you, but if Snoke truly is dead we haven’t caught wind of it yet. That changes things - changes our long-term plan. Especially if Ben truly has turned. I need you to focus on furthering your training and on contacting Ben - and I also need you to have no idea what’s happening or where we are or honestly, much of anything at all. Until we know if we are going to have a leak, the best thing we can do is to stop the flow of information. I’m sorry, Rey.” And she was. Rey could tell.

“I understand.” Rey said simply. And she did - but that doesn’t mean it didn’t sting. What Rey lacked in social graces she made up for in self-control, and she used every ounce of it to hold her tongue, stemming the flow of angry, useless words that wanted to spill out. _Don’t tip your hand. Don’t show your emotions. Don’t let anyone in_. The desert rules persisted in Rey’s life even in the vacuum of space.

“It’s not a prison sentence. I won’t lock your door - I won’t insult you in that manner. I trust you, Rey. I trust you to make the right choices. I hope this will be no more than a day or two.” Leia was visibly relieved that Rey was not arguing with her. “I’ll send Poe and Finn down for a visit when I see them next. I’m sure they will be pleased you’ve returned.”

“You mean no one has told them anything?”

Leia shook her head. “Rey, you don’t understand. Until you woke up this morning, we had no idea what happened to you, or if you’d even ever wake up. It’s been strictly need-to-know that you’re even here. I’m sorry.” And she was.

Chewie’s expression was inscrutable. Luke looked sad. And Rey was a riot of anger and fear and pain, but with a calm exterior that belied nothing of that. She had been nothing but honest and was still met with suspicion and mistrust. A part of her wanted to return their lack of trust with her own, but Rey decided to play along. For now.

“I understand.” She said. But she didn’t.

Leia and Chewie moved towards the door, but Luke made no move to leave. “We’ll leave you alone for a little, Rey. I’m sure you’d like a break. I’ll send Finn and Poe down with something to eat for you. It’s wearing on.”

Chewie roared, and patted Rey on the back with a giant paw. “ _It will be alright. Trust Princess.”_ He shuffled out, ducking through the low doorway. His bulk nearly filled the entire space, and despite herself, Rey smiled at her friend’s retreating back.

Leia followed him out, but not before turning to embrace Rey. Despite her misgivings on the whole situation, Rey could not deny that General Organa’s motives were pure and returned her embrace with no reservations. “I’ll be back as soon as I can with news.” The older woman promised, then bade Rey goodbye.

Then, it was just Rey and Luke in the small room. Rey sighed, sinking back down onto the side of the bed and tucking her freezing feet under her. “Is this going to be a conversation that I enjoy?” She asked warily, rubbing her temples with her fingers. “Because I already have quite a headache.”

Luke chuckled lowly. “Tell you what. I’ll find you some boots,” he looked pointedly at her bare feet, which were actually tinged with blue, “and then we can have a chat. Space still freezes me out, too. I don’t think the desert ever leaves you when you’ve been raised in it.” There was that tone of paternal concern again. Where others would resent it, Rey glowed. Nothing was balm for her soul like being felt as if she was cared for by someone she respected, the lonely child she carried within her still rejoicing in the thought of belonging. And despite everything, she did still hold the Jedi in esteem.

It would take more than this misstep to erase the months of closeness they had built, Rey realized with no small bit of relief. Relationships were still felt a puzzle in which half of the pieces were blank.

Rey offered him a small, but warm, smile. “Thank you, Master Luke.” While she was certain that the motivation behind Luke’s offer was more of a delay to the unpleasant conversation rather than any deep desire to find her some footwear, Rey wasn’t going to complain. She was utterly spent - it had been an emotionally taxing conversation, and apparently, she had been in a near coma for a week.

And her feet really _were_ cold.

The Jedi inclined his head and exited the room. The door swooshed shut behind him, and Rey was alone again. Without hesitation, she crawled further into the center of the bed, and wiggled under the dusky grey blanket. Just to get warm, she thought. She was so cold. Just until Luke came back.

Good intentions or not, sleep was upon her in moments.

\----

When Luke returned the better part of an hour later bearing a pair of soft brown boots, he found Rey curled into an apostrophe in the middle of the bed. The Jedi hesitated in the doorframe, unsure how to react. Seeing that the noise of his arrival hadn’t awoken his student, he slipped in to her room quietly to set the boots down on the floor near the foot of the bed. After a moment’s hesitation, he sank onto the stool in the corner.

Spotting the three glasses and now slightly-less-full bottle of Whyren Reserve on the top of the cabinet, he smirked tightly. Han was with them everywhere. Not for the first time, Luke wished his old friend had been Force sensitive. Then, there would have be a chance of contacting him - of reconciling the great wounds to their friendship after all this time. But those words would remain unsaid. Luke could only hope that his old friend had understood.

The Jedi adjusted himself on the uncomfortable stool, groaning creakily as he did so. His mechanical hand twitched of its own accord, and Luke frowned at it. That wasn’t good. And Maker, he was tired.

When had he gotten so old?

Perhaps a moment of meditation would do him good while he waited for Rey-from-Nowhere to wake. He felt responsible for her, for so many reasons – but especially for her current condition. If he had just handled the situation better, maybe she wouldn’t have run off.

Rey would never know – Luke would take it to his grave – but he had been preparing to tell her that he was ready to rejoin her fight. The words had turned to ash on his tongue as he stepped over the threshold of Rey’s hut, eyes landing on his wayward nephew. Luke had reacted in the most visceral, animal way possible, all thought of return banished from his head as the all-encompassing desire not to repeat past mistakes clouded his judgement.

In his moments of honest reflection, he would no longer lie to himself. A good part of his reaction stemmed from the fear of losing the young woman he quietly, silently, regarded as something of a daughter.

It had, of course, been the wrong call. Another moment of weakness. Luke had nearly ruined the relationship that had taken months to build – months mainly consisting of Rey’s persistence, if he was being honest with himself. Quiet trust built around lightsaber battles and evenings before a fire, shared meals and stories. Nearly erased, because of his inability to compose himself.

Maybe if he hadn’t overreacted, the two of them could have planned something. There was every chance that Rey’s assessment of the Jedi Killer was correct, and Luke was simply unable or unwilling to see it. But he had always had a blind spot where his nephew was concerned. It surely was not the first time it had come back to bite him.

He had taken his fill of moments of weakness. They had cost him the dark-haired, gurgling baby boy who still lived in buried memories. They had separated him from his sister temporarily. His best friend, permanently. Luke would not allow his weakness to be the reason she fell. Not this girl he had come to consider as his own family.

Luke resigned himself to the reality that Rey and the Jedi Killer were twisted together in some inextricable fashion, a living mystery of the Force. If they were a package deal, so be it. Luke would not see Rey’s eyes turn cold and hard in the same way Ben’s had. The burgeoning sense of the Force in his spirit assured him that Rey was important with every beat of his heart. The old Jedi knew he would spend the last of himself to ensure that she was not dragged down to the darkness, because the Force demanded it of him.

Beyond that, he demanded it of himself.

Willing his whirling thoughts to quiet, Luke closed his eyes. Slowly, by degrees, the aging Jedi opened his connection to the Force and allowed himself just to drift, the vague sense of Rey’s ash-gold aura lightening the darkness and regret he felt in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want some additional Luke perspective, check out my ficlet Eroded.


	5. Chapter 5

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

It had been quite the week for Ben Solo. And Kylo Ren. And the First Order.

There had been quite a lot of spluttering and bluster from General Hux, and a large amount of pushback from the rest of the generals, but Kylo was set to be recognized as the Supreme Leader as soon as they figured out a good way to spin the death of Supreme Leader Snoke.

So far, none of the ideas had been winners. In fact, one had been so bad Kylo had needed to force-choke the dim-witted suggester just to keep up appearances. He had let the man live, however, which the old Kylo Ren wouldn’t have done. But the newly minted Ben Solo / Kylo Ren hybrid balked at the idea of even more blood on his hands, so the unfortunate man would live to annoy him another day.

Kylo pushed the datapad away from him and rubbed the bridge of his nose, wincing as he disturbed the still-healing issue around his damaged eye. No one had ever mentioned how much damned paperwork came with being in charge. It felt like he was reviewing reports and making changes and commands all day long, which also made wearing the helmet a bit tedious. This, however, he found he didn’t mind so much after all.

Now it was a constant battle to remember to put the heavy thing back on before a meeting so that his underlings would even recognize him. Even now, the helmet sat on the corner of his huge desk, his thick gloves beside it. It helped him separate Ben Solo from Kylo Ren - he had a hard enough time finding the blurred line between the two of them most days anyway.

Overall, he found he missed the personal agency of being second in command - he could come and go a lot more freely with less requirements and restrictions. Now it was “Supreme Leader” this and “Supreme Leader” that. No wonder Snoke was such a prick. It certainly made Kylo cranky to be have such constant demands on his time.

Another report popped into his message center, requesting his approval before noon tomorrow.  _Maker take this damned thing,_ Kylo practically growled at the datapad. With a violent jerk, he yanked his desk drawer open and pitched the offending thing sullenly into it. _I’ve got to look at something else for a while._

He stood up from his ostentatious desk and stretched. Kylo hadn’t moved into Snoke’s audience room for obvious reasons, but he had repurposed several items for his own use, including the huge desk he was now chained to. And the liquor cabinet, naturally along with its contents. _To the victor go the spoils._ Irreverent, perhaps, but true.

Kylo crossed the room, the satisfying thump of his boot heels on the durasteel floor a punctuation for his unsettled thoughts. He poured himself a large splash of some expensive spirit - he was only half paying attention to what - and tossed it back while looking out the window at the blur of stars in hyperspace. The fleet was assembling to attack the latest Rebel base directly - Kylo was reasonably sure it was on Crait, but his attention had been drifting by the middle of that meeting. They were still a day or so away, but Kylo was becoming increasingly worried at the silence over the Force Bond. He had been practically screaming down it since he had learned of the intelligence - and the First Order’s plans to strike - but Rey hadn’t responded to him.

He refilled his glass, intending to nurse it this time. The soft fire from his first drink was already warming his chest, and he turned his thoughts again towards Rey and their Bond. He found the connection and gently pushed against it, mindful that it still felt a little sore - sort of like his throat felt after an extended Bacta tank session. He suppressed a grimace at the memory of that awful breathing tube.

 _Rey._ He called out softly, expecting no reply but still disappointed not to receive one all the same. Silence reigned. He stood still, letting the stars blur past him, his unsettled thoughts rumbling in his head. They were flying about, looking for a place to settle but finding none.

_Rey won’t respond to you. She’s angry – she’s shutting you out on purposes. Or she’s dead. And then you’ll never know. You’re all alone. Monster. It’s what you deserve. If you can’t warn her, the First Order is going to decimate the Resistance. You know it’s true. Look down at your hands, murderer. They’re already dripping in blood. You’re nothing but a monster._

He downed the rest of the drink he had wanted to savor and pitched the glass against the wall, where it shattered in a crystalline explosion. Shards tinkled down and littered the dark floor in an arc around the impact site. A few larger pieces remained stuck in the wall where the glass had struck it. He stalked over to it, glass crunching under his boots as he methodically pulled the shards from the wall with his bare fingers in jerky, angry movements. The pieces were jagged, and after a few minutes of this action blood ran down his fingertips. It felt _good_.

He snarled, turning his hands over as blood dripped down his fingers. The Dark inside him roiled. It hadn’t been fed in a long while - he hadn’t wanted to feed it. He wanted to be _better_. But now it was awake, and it demanded attention. It would give him no rest until he capitulated.

Kylo slammed his bloody fist into the already damaged wall, ripping back the soft foam and covering even further to expose the metal plating beneath. _What a fucking useless thing to have on a starship_ , he thought. _Fucking sound-absorbing foam_. He pulled his right hand back, watching the blood run down his fingers to pool in his palm. He had already left several bloody handprints on the wall of his office, but he wasn’t satisfied. The knuckles on both hands were bruised and bloody, he was reasonably sure that he had a minor fracture in his right wrist. There was now a sizable hole in the foam covering, which exposed several fist-shaped dents in the durasteel bulkhead beneath.

Hand outstretched, he called his lightsaber to him, igniting the broken blade with a swift flick of his bloody thumb. Kylo lost track of the minutes as he took out his frustrations on the helpless interior, the Dark swirling through him, strengthening him, feeding into his emotions. By the time he was done, the wiring behind the wall had been exposed, sparkling and cracking as it died. The lights above him dimmed once, twice, three times before settling into their low power mode.

Fuck.

Kylo sank to his knees in the broken glass, welcoming the little stabs of pain each piece made as it dug into his flesh. _Give me the pain_ , he thought, _I deserve it_.

He reached out to the Bond again, nearly desperate for the infusion of hope that Rey’s Light had brought him in the past. But still, there was only silence. The rage sparked in him afresh, and he dug his nails into his ruined palms. He roared her name into the ether, desperate to have her hear him. _Rey, I’m here. Feel me. I need you to hear me, Rey. People are going to die if you don’t respond to me._

He waited. But there was nothing.

_Fuck, Rey, it’s been a week. You’re supposed to be here. I can’t do this alone._

Kylo put his head in his hands. He wanted to be the man she thought him capable of being - of being Ben Solo again. But he had been Kylo Ren for so long, it was hard to think of himself in any other way - especially without her. Ben Solo was a weak boy that he thought he had murdered long ago. Resurrecting the dead was not among Kylo’s strengths.

He needed Rey to call him by his name, the bells of Abhorsen raising Ben from beneath the river. But she was gone, and he was alone.

Now that the Darkness had abated, he was ashamed of the loss of control, of the senseless destruction. The temper tantrum of a child. It just proved how poorly fit he was for this role. He never wanted this - not really. But what he wanted had ceased to be relevant many years ago. Duty and destiny had propelled him forward. They had turned him into a mockery of a marionette puppet pulled and tugged by the desires of his deceased Grandfather, of Snoke, and of Kylo’s own desperate desire to prove himself. Now his strings were cut, but old patterns faded slowly.

And not for the first time in the past week, he wondered if Rey was just _gone_. Was the Bond just a ghost of her? Did something happen to her - did Chewbacca never find her tracker beacon, did she never awake from the deep slumber she had fallen into? He had no idea what happened if one Bond-mate died before the other, and he certainly didn’t trust himself enough to use the ship’s holonet to do any research into the matter.

Supreme Leader or not, he was being watched closely by suspicious generals, just waiting for an opportunity to pounce and prove him unworthy. To dethrone the “impertinent pup”, the “rage filled emotional teenager”, the “creature in a mask.” Kylo felt sure that the First Order generals thought they were being sneaky in their mistrust of him, but he hadn’t survived this long by being oblivious. If one of those conniving bastards caught wind of his true intentions, the First Order would be in open rebellion. And he would be as good as dead.

Not that the collapse of the First Order wasn’t his end goal, mind you. He had no love of the Second Coming of the Empire - it had certainly suited his goals when he was still a creature of Snoke’s making, but he had held no slack-jawed, slavering, rabid love for it in the way Hux did. But he had since broken that particular chain and whatever loyalty he felt to the faction had disappeared. Regardless - it seemed that the best way to exact revenge on the First Order was to bring it to the brink of power only to destroy it.

It was a thin line to walk. He had to make himself out to be a competent leader, but still making strategic mistakes to weaken the Order while strengthening the Resistance. If the Resistance’s beloved New Republic had even a small chance of survival, it had to _win_. It had to rise from the ashes and soundly defeat the war machine in order for anyone to respect it. It couldn’t just sweep in after the First Order had made a mess of things with a dustpan and empty promises. There had to be drama, intrigue, mystery. The galaxy had to _buy_ it.

Lucky, Kylo loved a good dose of melodrama.

His knees were finally starting to complain from their ill-treatment, so he rose to his feet slowly, gingerly brushing glass from his pants and plucking out small bloody shards here and there. He probably needed to visit to medbay to remove all the glass, but it could wait.

The door to his office chirruped suddenly, and Kylo had just enough time to summon his mask and slide it on before Hux strode in. Only the ginger menace would be so bold as to not have the decency to _knock_. The General took one look at the wall behind Kylo and rolled his eyes.

“I’ll just add this to your tab, won’t I? If this keeps up, I’m going to run out of excuses for the accountants. They are going to wise up eventually to the fact that their Supreme Leader is actually a six-year-old under that mask.” Hux sneered, then looked down at his datapad to tap out what was presumably a work order for the repair.

Kylo felt his blood rise up, but refused to be baited. Hux was doing it on purpose. Hux was an antagonist and bully at his best, but now he was full of resentment over Kylo’s sudden rise to power. He showed this in private by disrespecting the man who had once been his equal in the eyes of Snoke, but outwardly he groveled like a good General should to the new Supreme Leader. Unfortunately, Kylo couldn’t kill Hux outright for his insolence for many, many reasons - first and foremost being that Hux actually gave a shit about wars and starships and space battles and Kylo surely did not, but couldn’t let on without risking his position. The facts were plain, however: Hux was a total asshole. And if he ever slipped up in public, woe betide the unfortunate little man.

“What do you want, Armitage?” Kylo’s tone was dripping with boredom, but he sniggered inwardly. Hux hated being called by first name in an official setting.

“Ren, I’ve told you to - never mind. I’ve come to tell you that the fleet will be moving out of hyperspace in the next cycle, next to Crait. The Resistance will be taken completely by surprise.” Hux bounced up on the balls of his feet after this proclamation, doing his best impression of a smarmy schoolyard tattletale.

He just had such a punchable face.

Kylo buried his irritation at his second-in-command and nodded. Secretly, he was rolling his eyes. Sometimes, his mask was an assistant and not a jailer. “Very good, General Hux. I trust the... necessary preparations are being made for the coordination of this attack?” _Give me something I can take to Rey, anything._ Despite his irritation at the obnoxious officer, the very tangible threat of crippling the Resistance niggled at his conscious. The danger to Rey herself was real. If she was with the Resistance anywhere at all, she would likely be near Crait. And this attack was not a punch he could pull.

Hux nodded sharply, seemingly mollified for the moment by Kylo’s faint praise. “It will be sudden and harsh. We will move out of hyperspace and immediately begin the attack on any defenses they may have exterior to the planet. Our intelligence states that there are few to none. Once those have been eliminated, troops will be shuttled to the surface for the ground invasion.”

“And proper instructions have been disseminated as to whom must be taken alive?” _My mother, Uncle Luke._ He couldn’t control if they lived or died, not really, but at least he would try. It would not be by his hand. He had been tempted to sneak Rey’s name into this list, but ultimately felt it was a risk he couldn’t take. Snoke had been the only one to understand exactly how powerful - and how valuable – Rey truly was. With Snoke gone, Rey was nearly an unknown to the First Order - making her a target for pickup could put her in more danger.

He had to trust she would be smart enough to get away on her own.

“Of course.” Hux nodded, making a few taps on the datapad he held before turning it towards Kylo. “You may review if you wish.” Hux’s tone still contained thinly veiled contempt that made Kylo’s fingers twitch.

Kylo waved off the datapad, inwardly wincing as his broken wrist twinged at the motion. He had no desire to see his family’s names spelled out so plainly - not when he was already feeling this raw. He also didn’t feel like attracting any more attention to his ruined hands. “Not necessary. All seems in order. Very good, Armitage.” Hux’s face turned a pleasing shade of red. “Please alert me when we are an hour away from dropping out of hyperspace. Do not disturb me before then.” Yes, using Hux’s first name was definitely going to be his go-to for needling the other man for a while. It lacked overt hostility and pissed the other man right off. Win-win.

Hux nodded. “Of course, Supreme Leader _._ I’ll ask maintenance to delay the repair to your wall as well.” He turned on his heel and left the room without further acknowledgment.

 _Maker take that insufferable man._ Kylo dearly wished there was a way he could dispose of Armitage Hux without endangering his position, but that odious little worm held the respect of the fleet in a way Kylo never could. He would have to continue to live. But, that didn’t mean he couldn’t Force Choke the shit out of him the next time he was an insubordinate ass in public. It was a small consolation.

After that unpleasant exchange, Kylo picked up another, whole, glass and poured a third drink. This time he left a bloody handprint on the expensive bottle and smears of red on the glass as he sipped the shot. He leaned against the large window, pressing his forehead against the transparisteel and reaching out for Rey again through the Bond.

As he expected - silence. He was running out of time to warn her, and that thought shot icy panic into his veins. With a hint of desperation to his actions, Kylo gathered the Force to him and smashed his consciousness into the bruised wall of the Bond. Again. And again. And again. Until something shifted - just a smidge.

He couldn’t hear Rey, but he could _sense_ her. He hadn’t felt her presence in nearly a week, and it was a welcome relief. Dying men in deserts had been less relieved to see water than Kylo Ren felt about seeing even the smallest spark of Rey’s Light in that moment.

 _Rey!_ He roared, but even to his ears it sounded like it was coming from underwater. She wouldn’t be able to hear him. He got the vague impression that she was upset - drained, anxious, and... cold?

His sense of her faded slowly. However, the Bond stayed cracked just long enough to show him an extremely perplexing image of his parents. His mother with her hair in a complicated braid and his father beside her. They were kneeling in the undergrowth of some forest - _Endor_ , something whispered to him. They were young - younger than he was now. He could tell because his mother’s hair was deep brown - he hadn’t seen it that color since his childhood. As his mother touched his father’s cheek with affection, the Bond slammed shut and the vision was gone.

Kylo was left still staring at the vastness of space in a blue blur outside his windows. With a sigh, he rubbed his eyes. He would meditate, try to strengthen his connection with the Force and attempt to break through again - but for now, he needed rest. He slumped down to the floor again, leaning against the window. It was some consolation, he supposed, that Rey was very much alive - even if he couldn’t reach her. It was a small relief, but one he was very happy to accept.

He studied then pinpricks of blood and slashes of red on his palms for a moment. He really did need to find some Bacta patches, or this was going to be very unpleasant soon. Several sharp pieces of glass remained in his flesh, grinding as he flexed his hands. Still, it could wait. _Monster, you deserve the pain. Don’t pretend otherwise._

Kylo turned his attention back to the stars. Space blazed around the Supremacy in a riot of blue and white. He had always found the star-streaks of hyperspace beautiful, even from the first time he had truly seen them from the pilot’s seat of the Falcon.

Inadvertently, he felt himself dragged into a memory he hadn’t wanted to recall.

 _You ready, Kid?_ His father had been grinning from ear to ear. He had wrestled little Ben away from Leia for the day for some “guy time”, and Leia had extracted many, many promises from the smuggler that “guy time” would not involve casinos, races, betting, going off-world, or really anything other than a trip to the park. His mother had reluctantly handed over their three-year son to Han and Chewie, with a special admonition to the Wookiee that she would not hesitate to turn him into a carpet if something happened to her little boy. Ben remembered the Wookiee’s indignant roar as they had left the Solo’s apartment in Chandrilla.

He could see Han handing him an iced treat and telling him to “not tell Mom” as the three of them ran up the ramp of the Falcon. How Han had only been a little annoyed when that iced treat had left sticky traces on the controls in front of the pilot’s seat. How beautiful the sunset sky over the city had looked that day - and how much more beautiful space had seemed as they disappeared into it. His father’s hands holding him securely as Chewie moved them into hyperspace.

He saw streaks of stars reflected in his father’s eyes, which had been crinkled with pleasure at the edges as he showed his son all the controls and bright buttons and the hyperdrive lever. It had been a perfect day. A perfect memory.

And then he saw the red streak of his own lightsaber reflected in his father’s eyes, the edges crinkled this time with age and pain. The feeling of his father’s rough hand on his cheek one final time. Rey’s horrified scream and Chewie’s pained bellow as his father’s body fell down, down, _down_. The searing pain from the bolt released by the Wookiee’s bowcaster as it buried itself in his gut. The shame of knowing he deserved to die along with his father for his actions - and the guilt of his continued existence while the one who gave him life was dead. He deserved the animosity of his remaining family. He truly was nothing more than a monster.

He deserved Rey’s anger, her mistrust, the names she had flung at him when their connection had invaded her privacy. He was a monster. He would own it.

Kylo Ren shook the haze of memories from his mind. Absently, he fingered the scar on his belly from the bowcaster blast, still sore after all this time. His eyes swam as he stared at the streaks of stars, aching and numb and full of regret.


	6. Chapter 6

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Rey came back to awareness by degrees, like a navcomputer after a hard reboot. The first of her senses to come back online was her knowledge of the Bond - a gentle prod of which revealed that it was still silent and sore. Disappointing, but what she had come to expect.

She rustled her legs, feeling the roughness of the blanket against bare skin and the softness of the mattress - something she hadn’t felt since before Ahch-To. There they had slept on pallets filled with dried grasses, which were soft in their own way as well as scratchy. No, this was certainly a proper mattress. Her feet were still achingly cold, which meant she was somewhere in space. Nothing made her cold quite like space did - cold that seemed to get in her bones and steal away the heat of the desert.

That’s right. Space.

She remembered everything then.

Rey kept her eyes shut and lay quietly, preserving the peace of the room as she came fully awake. It had been a while since she allowed herself the luxury of a slow wake. She focused on her even breathing, the footfalls in the hallway outside her door, the slow drip-drop of water from the ‘fresher. And - the breathing of someone else?

Rey popped her eyes open in confusion, casting them around the room till she found the still form of the Jedi Master propped up against the wall to her right, sitting on a stool and deep in meditation with the Force. She made no move to disturb him - from the lines on his careworn face and the deep circles under his closed eyes, it appeared that Master Luke had needed the break as much as she had.

His hands, both the false one and natural one, had been roughened with age and the hard life he had imposed upon himself on the island. They were folded together on his lap and held still. Everything about the man exuded calm. His breathing was measured and slow, and even the crows-feet around his eyes appeared smoother. The dusty farm boy peeked out from the features of the aging Jedi.

Affection welled in her chest at the softening of the gruff man she had grown so fond of, and it pleased her irrationally to see him coming back to the Force. Once Rey got to know Luke - and living on a solitary island with someone for nearly a year, you truly get to know them, disgusting blue-green milk and all - his self-imposed exile from both society and the Force just hadn’t seemed very much like himself. It felt like a denial of his very basic personality. In hindsight, Rey supposed it was meant to be.

When she had confronted him about his exile few months previous, Master Luke had become sullen and accused her of conflating the man and the legend. _You don’t know me._ He had snapped, suddenly uncharacteristically volatile. _You said yourself, you’re from nowhere. Nothing. Well, Rey-From-Nowhere, what in your previous life experience has equipped you come to such a deep understanding of me, then? Out with it. I’m all ears._ He had crossed his arms and looked down his nose at her, and Rey had fallen silent and never responded. She had stood up from the fireside, nodded a goodbye, and retired to her room. If there was one thing Rey knew, it was when to retreat from a fight.

The next morning, Master Luke had knocked on her door like nothing at all had happened, and her training had resumed as normal. They had never spoken of it again. Rey had never again asked him to return to the galaxy until the truth of her Force Bond has been revealed - until the final fight that had sent Rey and Chewie packing in the Falcon, as she rushed headlong to save a man that everyone she trusted felt was incapable of redemption. It remained to be seen how that choice would play out. They were still riding the shockwaves.

After a moment, Rey reached out tentatively for the Force, seeking Luke’s signature within its deep waters. The last time she had tried this at his behest on Ahch-To, she had sensed what felt like everything - except for him. He was a curious blank spot, like a burned-out light in a string of those that were otherwise blazing. That was when she learned that he had been shutting himself away from the Force - as punishment? Protection? That she didn’t know.

After a brief moment, she found him. He was curious - brilliant, impossible Light streaked through with a band of Darkness. The Light and Dark undulated against each other, a river of raw power and Force flowing in a circle around him. Innocent and hardened, optimistic and resigned. Broken, mended, whole. Imperfect. Awe-inspiring. Before her now sat the truth of the Jedi of legend, and he was every bit as wonderful as Rey had imagined - but somehow even more so because he was human. He was real.

Rey looked inward, at her own connection to the Force. Less practiced than Master Luke’s had been, but no less strong. Her own strong ribbon of Darkness twined the bright Light, and she smiled.

_You and I are more alike than you think, Master Luke. Both of us orphans in one way or another, growing up on a hot and dusty planet, looking skyward for the truth. Both of us touched by a power we can’t dream of being able to fully comprehend, and both of us required to harness it at the asking of a galaxy torn apart by war. And both of us at war with ourselves for control and comprehension. No, Master Luke. I can’t possibly understand you at all._

It took Rey a moment to register that Luke had sensed her presence. He had fallen out of his meditation, blue eyes open and studying her without apology. She suddenly felt self-conscious about lying in the bed and sat up slowly, the blanket still covering her shoulders. Embarrassment or not, she was still damned cold.

“I suppose you are right, Rey-from-Nowhere.” Luke said softly, unfolding himself from the stool to lean forward slightly. He studied her for a moment, and then smirked devilishly. “But you really have to work on controlling your projection.”

Rey blanched. Her head thumped into the palms of her hands and she groaned in embarrassment. “You weren’t - that wasn’t – oh Force.” Rey resisted the temptation of bury herself under the blanket, but just barely. Never before had she so fervently wished that the ground would swallow her up. Where was a sarlaac when you really needed one? Being slowly digested over a thousand years was preferable to this humiliation.

_That’s it. I’m dead. It’s all over. The First Order doesn’t have to kill me, social awkwardness has done their job for them._

Luke laughed out loud, reaching over to pat Rey on her shoulder with fatherly affection. “Rey, if I had a credit for every somewhat embarrassing thought a student has accidentally broadcasted in my presence - well, let’s just say my stay on the island would have been a whole lot more comfortable. Frankly, I value your honesty, and your insight. They will serve you well. Besides - you were right.”

Rey blinked. “I was?”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Luke smiled again, but this time with a hint of sadness. “Time to unravel the mess I helped to make. Hiding didn’t help anything. It’s time for action. So - let’s have this discussion and get it out of the way. We have much to do.” He settled back on the stool and folded his arms across his chest. Luke patted a pocket absently, then snapped his fingers as if remembering something he’d forgotten. “First things first - boots. I found a pair for you, I put them at the foot of your bed. They’re a little big, but with these you should be fine.” Luke produced a pair of thick, wadded-up socks from the pocket of his robes and tossed them to Rey, who caught them awkwardly.

Rey barely glanced at the socks before putting them on her frozen feet, still hidden under the blanket. She wiggled her toes in comfort, willing them to warm up. “Thank you, Master Luke.” Her smile and gratitude were genuine. She had precious little opportunity to receive a gift throughout much of her life - even one as mundane as socks and boots.

The Jedi nodded, grimacing slightly as he did so. Rey frowned, noticing for the first time how his metal hand rested awkwardly across his lap. “Your hand is bothering you again.” Like it had on Ahch-To, but he had refused to answer her questions regarding it.

“Its fine, it just acts up.” Another frown. He had always brushed off her concern while they were still on the island, as well. But things were different now, and Rey wasn’t giving up so easily.

“It’s obviously not nothing, I’m not blind.” Rey rolled her eyes and moved to stand beside the Jedi. Luke narrowed his eyes but made no move to remove himself, so she motioned with a crooked finger towards his hand. Sighing, Luke gave it up, and Rey began her inspection.

“Maker – it’s like no one has maintained this thing in a decade.” She frowned, not noticing Luke rolling his eyes as she opened the casing to reveal the circuits and servos beneath it.

“It’s almost as if no one has seen me for nearly sixteen years. Oh wait.”

Rey shot Luke a look, smiling as she noticed the teasing glint in his eyes. “Do you want me to fix it, or not?”

“Not.” Luke tried to take his hand back, but Rey refused to give it up.

“Stop being stubborn. Maker, it’s as if you want to suffer.” She scowled as the words rang true in her mind, and felt Luke relax his arm in response. His eyes were on the floor.

Taking his silence for acquiescence, Rey fished about her pocket for the small multitool she always kept there. She was relieved to find that it hadn’t fallen out sometime in the last week’s misadventures, settling herself on the edge of the bed before beginning her work.

Circuits, servos, relays and gears. These were all easy for her fix. The troubled silence that had fallen between master and student where a comfortable companionship once existed – that was far less easy. Rey scowled as she nudged a loose gear back into place before straightening a bent pin. Luke twitched, and she realized that this must be the main source of the problem.

“I think I found it. You still need a medi-droid to look at it, but this should hold you over for a bit. Wiggle.”

“What?”

“Wiggle your damn fingers.”

Luke did as requested, his scowl abating as he realized that the hand was once again under his control and pain-free. Rey grinned, pleased with herself. Never fixed a biomech before, but it was just like anything else. She watched the metal innards again for a moment before closing the access panel, satisfied there was nothing else to be done.

The Jedi raised his hand, examining it as he moved his wrist, twitched his fingers. He seemed pleased. Rey hoped he understood the apology she had built into her work. She was no good with words – perhaps actions spoke louder.

Before Luke could say anything himself, Rey inhaled and launched herself fully into the speech that had been running through her mind. “Master Luke... can you help me find out what’s gone wrong with the Bond? I mean, I know you don’t approve and you certainly didn’t like my handling of it before and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for what – I mean - I don’t especially blame you for being upset and I know you have no reason to trust me about it now and I never asked for this in the first place but I still think I was right and that Ben’s _still in there_ and I think he wants to be saved and he truly did kill Snoke but now I can’t reach him and -”

Luke held up his silver hand to slow the onslaught of Rey’s words, his grey eyebrows climbing into his hairline.

She paused, before lowering her eyes and finishing slowly “- and I’m scared.” She looked up and met Luke’s gaze, willing him to feel the sincerity of her words. Because it was true – all of it. The apology, her conviction, her fear.

She hadn’t heard from Ben in a week, and she couldn’t even sense him in the Bond. She had grown accustomed to feeling the pull and tug of him in the back of her mind; his absence made her feel hollow. Anything could have happened to him, and if the Resistance hadn’t yet gotten wind of Snoke’s demise - well, it was very possible things hadn’t gone well for him when the carnage in the throne room had been discovered.

Luke looked at her soberly, and Rey’s breath caught in her throat. _Please help me. Please understand._ But all she could hear in her head was the nightmare tone of his voice from that day on the Supremacy, that one line from their argument on repeat.

At length, Luke sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He looked small, and old. Defeated. “From all that I know about Force Bonds - and mind you, Rey, it’s not much - if one of a bonded pair dies, it’s highly likely that the remaining person descends into insanity.” He paused here, just long enough for Rey’s blood to turn to ice in her veins. “You don’t look like you’re suffering from insanity to me.” He smiled lopsidedly. “I think it’s safe to assume Kylo is still alive for now. Like I said - I don’t know much, but if you’ll trust me - I could take a look?” He offered his help freely, but his demeanor was full of hesitation. Rey wondered – was it because of Ben or something else?

Rey nodded quickly, unwilling to give Luke time to change his mind. She was ready to suffer almost anything to restore her link to Ben. This was minor compared to placing herself in the hands of the First Order.

“Are you sure?” Luke looked tremendously reluctant. “It won’t - there won’t be much privacy, Rey. I’ll feel and see what you do. Everything. You’ll be letting me entirely in your head. You’ve just come through the other end of quite an ordeal, whether you want to recognize it or not – maybe we should wait.”

Rey shook her head – she was past caring about privacy; and the longer she went without hearing from Ben, the tighter the coil of panic wound itself in her stomach. It was untenable. She had to do something.

“Do it. Do it now.”

Luke’s brow furrowed again, and before he could voice another objection, Rey blurted out “I trust you.” Luke stilled.

And it was true - she still did. You didn’t live with someone for nearly a year, cook for them, eat their cooking, and allow them to knock you flat on your backside daily in the name of training without at least coming to a sort of equilibrium. That had not eroded in the face of their argument.

Rey scooted back towards the middle of the bed to make more room for the Jedi master to join her. There was no pleasant-smelling grass here, only worn covers and flickering overhead lights. In no way did it resemble the wild island and its craggy hillsides where she had learned the Force, and Rey found herself missing the comfort of the island.

It couldn’t be helped.

She folded her legs and sat tailor fashion at the head of the bed, slipping into her usual meditation pose. Luke rose somewhat creakily from the stool and hovered awkwardly at the side of the bed for a moment before sitting down at the edge.

“Rey, you have to be sure. You can’t unring a bell.” He looked vaguely nauseous.

Rey regarded him with a perplexed expression and chuckled slightly. “I don’t even know what that means. But I am sure. What have I got to be afraid of? You won’t hurt me. I trust you - and that’s not given lightly, at least by me. We must help Ben. This is how we help Ben. I don’t see the problem here.”

 _Don’t you, desert girl? Your beloved master will hear how he sounds in your nightmares. He will be hurt. He’ll see your feelings for Ben - your pathetic, unreciprocated feelings. He will disagree. You will lose him. You’ll lose another man you’ve come to regard as a father. Can you handle that? All for a man who tried to kill you and your friends, who invaded your head without permission? Who killed his own father?_ The niggling voice of Rey’s doubt gnawed at her conscience, but she pushed it away. The time for wavering in fear was gone. The need for the restoration of the Bond and Ben’s safety eclipsed all else.

Luke sighed, and moved to sit in front of Rey, folding his long legs tailor-fashion with somewhat less grace than Rey had. He held his hands out, palms up, in front of him and gestured for Rey to take him.

She did so quickly, the metal hand not even a slight deterrent. The duality of Master Luke’s hands was an interesting thought exercise - his natural hand was rough and warm, like sun and sand. His false hand was cold and smooth, like the feeling of a bulkhead on a freighter. Balanced.

Rey closed her eyes and slipped into the Force, allowing herself to drift for a moment. Master Luke’s presence wasn’t far away; she could sense him. He was nervous. The realization almost made her smile.

Without so much as an excuse me, the Jedi was in her head. _Maker_ , it hurt - she wasn’t expecting that. Rey cried out in pain, nearly falling out of the Force in her surprise. Luke’s distorted nightmare voice looped in her head again – _This is not going to go the way you think!_ – but his true mental presence held her steady. Luke’s hands tightened around hers, grounding her. She could sense his surprise at the repeated line of their argument. There was pain there, too, she thought.

_Focus on the why, Rey. Hold on to your motivations. The discomfort will fade._

Luke’s true voice filled her mind, soft and powerful. Rey didn’t audibly acknowledge him so much as mentally, but she calmed herself all the same. She remembered swimming in the cold oceans of Ahch-To, the first blush of autumn in the crisp air. Her first taste of fish.

She centered herself, calm at last. Nodding at the projection of Master Luke, she straightened her back. She was ready.

Luke nodded, and Rey wondered what he was thinking – and how much of her thoughts he heard. The Jedi shook his head and gestured with his false hand in a broad, sweeping motion. _Show me your link._

Rey drifted to the corner of her mind where the Bond lay, dormant and sore. _Just there. If I try to open it or push it, it feels almost bruised. I can’t get anything in or out through it. We’ve been able to close it from the other before, but it felt - different._ Rey tried to push forward a memory of how it felt when one of them voluntary closed the link – the emptiness but no pain, no sense of dread. Only an absence.

Luke edged closer to their link, leaning over as if to inspect it. He reached out a hand tentatively, and Rey could immediately feel him touching the Bond. An electric tickle, turning quickly to a burn - it felt _wrong_. She resisted the urge to vomit as her stomach lurched at the sensation. Her palms began to sweat, and panic rose in her again. _Nowaitstopdonttouchit -!_

Luke backed away, perplexed. _Incredible_ \- _Rey, even the ancient texts I read never mentioned a Bond this strong. Most are a tenuous thread at best. This is a solid... thing._

 _Told you._ Rey said softly, looking down at her feet - clad in her new soft brown socks, even in her mental projection of herself. The warm feeling of happiness at the reminder of the gift swelled around her.

Luke followed her gaze quizzically, before nodding and resuming his examination of the Bond. _I’m in way over my head. But there is one thing I can try... it’s probably going to be unpleasant. You may want to prepare yourself._

Rey nodded, and before she could change her mind, Luke grabbed the Bond, and _pulled_. Everything in Rey screamed in response. She sank to her knees, clutching her stomach and bowing her head to touch the ground. Her physical body reacted as well, her hands squeezing Master Luke’s as tightly as they could manage, her spine tense and body arching backwards in pain.

She was on her elbows on the ethereal ground of her mind, body trembling and it felt so _wrong_. An invasion. Pain. She _burned_ and writhed and _Maker_ why wouldn’t it jus _t stop already?_ She collapsed, rolling to her back and screaming like she was back on the Supremacy and in Snoke’s clutches again, only this time there was no Ben and she was _alone_ and she was dying, oh Maker, Master Luke, _help_ –

Ben –

Ben where are you?

Fear and panic swirled around her till she was lost in the maelstrom of it. It was like a dam had broken somewhere, and all her memories, her emotions, her thoughts and desires and fears and nightmares all rose up as one and tried to drown her.

_Ben!_

It was all she could manage to say. She had never known agony like this. Luke was near her, engulfed as she was in her pain and her nightmares, and powerless to help.

Every day of starving in the desert, every moment she had longed for her family, every wound that had nearly been mortal, the pain of losing Han, every shock of lightening from Snoke, all surrounded her as one and tried to swallow her whole. She was going to _die_ here, trapped in her own head, and Ben would never know.

For hours or only moments, the torture in her head continued. Time muddied and Rey lost all sense of self. She was drifting away, clinging to her link to the Force as her only anchor, something primal in her belly screaming for the other half of this strange link like he could somehow help.

Her body bellowed its disapproval of this mistreatment, her mind feeling like ice and fire in alternate measure.

It had to end. She would lose herself. Rey reached a quaking hand towards Luke, a supplication for him to stop -

But Ben -

She needed Ben.

She would hold on a moment longer. And then the moment after that.

Ages or seconds later, Luke dropped his hold on the Bond. He sank to his knees beside Rey, and in the sudden silence was filled with wheezing breath.

As silence roared in her ears, the pain and fear and hurt dissipated. Rey lay on the ground, sucking in air with great crackling lungfulls. Her chest still burned. She trembled. Tears rolled freely down her face, and she had no way of stopping them.

Luke’s projection collapsed next to her, shuddering for breath. She had hurt him, too. The Jedi was as unshielded from her as she was from him, and he was clearly readable.

Pain lingering from Rey’s memories. Worry over her. Protectiveness. Regret. Anger at himself. Anger at Ben. And then so much _resolve_.

But then - there was someone else. Someone Dark and strong and very, very angry. The presence wrapped around her, inexplicably filling her with light.

 _Ben,_ she half whispered, an echo from a distant dream. She had never seen such a wonderful sight as his scarred face looming over her, his features tight with anger. Rey raised a hand to touch the mental projection of her bondmate, her fingers burning against his cool skin.

He was there. He was back. Luke had done it. Her heart swelled till she thought it might break, and all the compassion and _hope_ in her spilled out over and over, flooding her mind and that of the two men inside her head.


	7. Chapter 7

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Kylo had fallen asleep in his office, leaning against the transparisteel window. His tumbler containing the third drink of the night sat intact on the floor beside him, his rage having turned into despair after the onslaught of unwanted memories. The pain in his hands finally roused him to wakefulness, and he spent a few seconds staring at the stars before he shook himself and rose to his feet. A glance at the chrono told him about seven hours had passed since Hux’s entry, and it was the small hours of the morning on the ship’s cycle. It didn’t matter - he would sleep where he slept, there was no one to miss him if he never made it back to his quarters.

There were only five hours till the fleet made planetfall - precious little time to warn Rey. He didn’t even have to test the Bond to know it was still silent. Anger warred with panic inside his chest. He was going to fail. He hadn’t even managed to muster up the concentration to meditate, for fucks’ sake, how in the hell was he ever going to break open the Bond on his own?

Kylo stumbled into the small ensuite ‘fresher and loomed over the sink. He studiously avoided the mirror - looking at the ruin of his face was a sure way to send him on a path he couldn’t handle going down. He was just lucky to have kept his eye, between Rey and the quick work of the medical droid in sickbay. He shook that thought away and looked again at his hands.

There was an easy way and a hard way to remove the glass still in his skin - and Kylo wasn’t in the mood for anything requiring patience. Using the Force, he called the glass fragments out of his hands and into the sink, where they landed with a satisfying tinkle. The fresh wave of pain and welling droplets of bright red blood reminded him of what was at stake if he kept _fucking everything up._

This time he was actively trying not to get blood everywhere and failing. He reached for the medkit stashed under the sink. Annoying little patters of blood kept getting on the floor, and a large red smear appeared on the front of the medkit as he pawed it open. After a moment of rifling through the offerings, he finally found two large Bacta patches and awkwardly managed to apply them to the palms of his hands using his teeth. Every movement pinged his broken wrist, now throbbing in earnest after several hours of inattention. It was beyond his power to deal with, he knew, but sacrificing the last hours before the attack to a medical droid just wasn’t in the cards.

So, after he coated his fingers in Bacta paste and wrapped them and his palms tightly with bandages, he wound a black compression bandage around his injured wrist, securing it with the small metal clip. All in all, it had taken him thirty minutes to completely wrap his hands in gauze.

He sat down on the cold floor of the ‘fresher, staring at his ruined hands and remembering what a _fucking idiot_ he was. His bowed head brushed the fabric covering his chest, long forearms resting on the tops of his knees as his back was braced against the wall. He could feel the Bacta working to knit together his flesh, and he used that feeling to help him fall into the Force.

Light side and dark side meditation styles were different. He was so rusty and out of practice at the light that he simply automatically slipped into darkness. It felt inky and oily and just a tinge dirty, but power lurked there, too.

Maybe power and grit were what he needed to force the damned Bond back open.

Their link lurked like a great wound in his mind, a sore tooth that had been allowed to fester for too long. A spot of murky grey in the otherwise inky blackness. He strode over to it, intending to wrench the thing open and reconnect to Rey by brute force. Inaction had never sat well with him. The time for waiting was over.

But then he _felt_ it. Their Bond was alive, gently cracked open. Kylo peered closer, rarely-felt excitement flooding his limbs with energy. Could it be -?

Before he could fully appreciate the discovery, a tiny red trickle wormed its way through the small opening. Kylo narrowed his eyes first in confusion, then fear. Pain made visible – _Rey’s_ pain - was beginning to pour out of their Bond like blood from a wound. The murky grey was turning a hellish red even before his eyes.

 _No. No no nononono._ Panic drove him, bloody and broken hands and all, to the Bond. Without thought or intention, acting solely on instinct, he grabbed the Bond and yanked with all the power in his spirit; with all the Force he could muster. He felt it creak, and crack, and complain mightily before snapping wide open and unleashing a river of Rey over him. Her emotional onslaught was a torrent of frigid water, but he plunged into it all the same, driven by the staccato heartbeat of his fear.

He didn’t call out to her. He couldn’t. Panic had sucked the air from his lungs. The rushing waters of her nightmares threatened to drown him, but Kylo pulled and clawed his way through every bad day, every starving night, every misstep inside the wreckage she had called her own. Kylo felt every time Rey had cried over being left to die in a desert by the people who were supposed to love her. He felt the raw wound in her spirit that his murder of Han Solo - his _father_ \- had caused, knew the gnawing emptiness that not eating for nearly a week brought. He felt the agony of his own violation of Rey’s mind on Starkiller Base, and that alone nearly toppled him _. I did that. I am a monster. I did that to the one thing in this universe I truly claim to care about._ Her confusion over their Bond and the panic at her lack of control over it climbed up his body and tried to strangle him. _He did all those horrible things_ , Rey’s memories whispered at him. _He can’t care about me. He’s a monster._

Rey’s nightmares burned themselves into his brain, images he would never be able to forget.

But even through all this, at the end, her Light blazed like a beacon as she keened in agony, bent and broken on floor. He could feel her spirit begin to dim and he pushed through the deluge of hallucinations with renewed desperation. _Rey, Rey, Rey._ His very pulse sang her name as he closed the distance between them.

Just as he crossed the barrier from their Bond into her own mind, the connection snapped shut. It wouldn’t do to think about that now. Forward was the only option.

Kylo knelt next to her body, watching her wracking sobs subside and her chest heave with the effort of drawing in each wheezing breath. Without thought or consideration of the consequences, he gathered her spirit to him as gently as he could, cradling her to his chest. He cursed his stupidity and his awkwardly bandaged hands - all he could manage to do was hold her, his fractured wrist screaming at the position it was being twisted into. He wanted to smooth her face, dry the tear tracks and _comfort_ her. But he couldn’t. He was so _fucking useless._

To his great amazement, Rey opened her eyes, smiling softly up at him. His given name fell from her lips, just a whisper, barely even audible. It was more of a sense of a benediction than a call to action - and it was his undoing.

Rey was _alive._

The bell rang, dredging Ben even further from the river Styx.

The scavenger girl lifted a hand to weakly touch his soot black hair, brushing against the fresh scarring on his face. And Kylo Ren, fallen Jedi prince with the blood of hundreds on his hands, leaned into her soft touch, aching for her mercy and her kindness. He was still lost for words at the feeling of having her in his arms, even if it was only a projection of themselves and not their physical bodies. It seemed as if the space around them had exploded with life and Light.

Bright, crystalline joy chased away the lingering darkness of her nightmares, the tumultuous seas calming into a sleepy ocean. Hope blossomed like desert flowers after a rainstorm. And love - love like he hadn’t felt in years, wormed its way inside his chest till he felt like he might explode. And unconscious sort of love – love that cared if he lived or died, that would look for him in a crowded room above anyone else.

Her love – for him.

For a long moment, he didn’t move, barely daring to breath as he clutched the still projection of Rey against his ribs. She was calm now, eyes still shut, the hand that had reached for him having fallen back across her chest. Her even breathing calmed the racing beats of his own heart, till they were in sync. _Inhale, beat. Exhale, beat_. Soft and strong. He was at peace.

As his sense of danger diminished, his awareness of another presence in Rey’s mind grew. A male, older, ragged and torn and flashing with anger and regret and shame. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was, but all the same, he tore his eyes from Rey’s still face to lock them onto the projection of his estranged uncle.

Luke looked old. Haggard. He was staring at the two of them with an unfathomable expression, blue eyes narrowed. The Jedi seemed a little surprised by the extent of the scarring on both sides of his nephew’s face, and the near-ruin of his eye and cheek, but mastered his reaction to it well. The only betrayal was a nearly imperceptible intake of breath and a flicker of a grey eyebrow. Then, Luke’s face settled into a more familiar pattern - that of a disappointed schoolmaster.

 _What are you doing here?_ Kylo managed to ground out, shifting his grip on Rey’s body. She didn’t stir. He could feel his anger and the deep dark sense of betrayal gnawing at his throat, making his fingers twitch. The Dark rose up and coiled around him, twining with Rey’s Light.

The only thing keeping him from giving into his instinct and choking the life from his uncle was the mantra running through his head. _Rey says I have a choice. I have a choice. I have a choice. I can do better. Fuck, her hope is still hanging in the air around me - and I feel it - I can do better._

Slowly, by degrees, he mastered his anger enough to hear Luke’s reply. The old man’s face, lined and tired, shifted from wary to resigned. _I’m here to help you. And Rey._ The Jedi said softly, eyes flickering down to the still form of the girl in his nephew’s arms. _I opened the Bond back up._

 _That was you?_ growled Kylo, arms tightening reflexively around Rey. _You could have killed her. Did you know that was going to happen?_ His eyes narrowed, and he struggled to hold onto his calm.

Luke shook his head. _I knew it was going to be... unpleasant. A third party disturbing a Force Bond, especially one of that strength, would feel unnatural. But I was betting on it being enough to keep the Bond open long enough to put you back in contact. I think - I hope - it’s a permanent fix. But I’m not sure - I don’t know enough about this to be able to tell for certain. You’ve been here this long, though..._ Luke trailed off, blue eyes clouding for a moment and his expression darkening. _We have much to discuss, nephew. But I sense that now is not the time._

Kylo nodded, but only to placate the old man. He had no intention of rehashing the actions of fifteen years ago with his uncle, ever. _I’ve been trying to get in contact with Rey for days. The First Order is planning a full-scale attack on Crait. Our entire fleet is on the way there now. They are intent on completely wiping out the Resistance - and you must believe me when I say it’s a possibility. The fleet is only hours away. You don’t have much time._ He tried to infuse his words with as much sincerity and urgency as possible. They had to leave - and now.

Luke shook his head and hardened his gaze, but the faraway look in his eye gave the impression that the sternness was focused on planning, and not the messenger. _Rey and I in orbit around the planet now, but much of our forces are planetside. I don’t know how long has passed since we began this meditation, but if what you say is true then we need to leave, now, and start preparing to evacuate._ The old Jedi rose to his feet slowly, with the creakiness of age. Kylo could only stare. His uncle suddenly seemed old and small - not the towering, powerful presence burned into the memory of a struggling fifteen-year-old boy. The years had aged him and dampened the fire that once flamed deep within the Jedi. Or perhaps that had been Kylo himself.

He could feel the same sense of betrayal rolling off the Jedi as he knew coiled in the pit of his own stomach, but he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it. Their wounds ran too deep to deal with superficially in the few moments they had left. Instead, he focused on the present. He was better at that, anyways. Let the past die.

But not Rey. _Will she..._  Kylo couldn’t bring himself to voice his fears aloud, but it didn’t seem to matter. Luke knew.

 _She will be fine. I’ll bring her back myself. If she was... if she had been damaged, we wouldn’t be having his conversation. We are in her mind, after all. Go ahead, give her to me._ This last part was said gruffly, and it looked as if the old Jedi was ready to break their fragile peace if Kylo refused.

Kylo resisted the urge to growl and pull Rey closer to him, like he was some sort of feral animal instead of a highly disciplined Force user. He didn’t want to lose her Light. Not yet. Not now.

 _I know, son... I know._ Something in Kylo twinged at Luke’s familiarity with him after all this time, but he suppressed it. For Rey’s sake, if not his own. _She’ll be safe,_ Luke coaxed. _I won’t let anything happen to her. I’ll get her out of harm’s way._ The promises Luke was making were sincere - Kylo just hoped the old Jedi would be able to fulfill them.

Knowing time was precious, Kylo swallowed his anger and resentment. He couldn’t help Rey right now, but Luke could. And Rey was what mattered. With a sigh, Kylo lowered his shoulders and broke eye contact with the Jedi in submission. He stood, carrying Rey over to his uncle and passing her to him of his own will. The smooth metal of Luke’s false hand brushed his gauze-covered ones as Rey’s slight body shifted from one man to the other.

Kylo was tired of having precious things taken from him. At least this way he could have some small control over it. Loneliness made his arms ache, and Kylo found he couldn’t watch his uncle carry Rey back. He turned swiftly on his heel and stalked towards the Bond with hard steps. When he reached it, he gave a mighty tug, allowing his anger to spill into his actions. To his surprise and eternal relief, it swung open as easily as it ever had. The murky grey of their connection whispered to him, and he paused in the entrance of the great gaping maw of nothing-yet-something that had reached across a galaxy to pull a scavenger to him.

His uncle’s eyes were burning holes in the back of his head. Kylo turned for a moment, opening his mouth to warn them off. They had to go. There wasn’t time for touchy-feely nonsense, from any of them.

_Your mother misses you._

Four short words, but as deadly as a shot to his gut. Kylo winced visibly. _Mom_. His hands clenched, and he gritted his teeth together. It had been over a decade since he had seen Leia Organa in person. He hadn’t let himself think of her for almost as long.

But the memories were lingering, whether he wanted them or not. A sunny smile. Gentle hands over boyish scrapes. An embrace when things had gone poorly. Sympathetic ears when problems arose. Long hours away from home in the Senate. Angry fights with his father. Weeping alone in the kitchen at midnight. The look of sadness and loss on her face as he had boarded the transport that ultimately removed him permanently from her life. He had always wondered if she had sensed the finality of it in the Force.

Disgust at himself won out, and Kylo couldn’t bear to look at his uncle as he responded. This was his mother’s brother. Son of Darth Vader. His former Master. The last Jedi.

The Skywalkers are such a fucked up lot.

 _Tell her..._ he paused, trying to decide exactly what to say. _Tell her I’m trying. Now go. There isn’t time._ He resisted the impulse to look at Rey simply because he didn’t want to entertain the idea that this would be the last time he saw her. The last time he felt her confidence, her hope.

Full of trepidation, Kylo Ren fled through the link of their Bond, hoping that he had given them enough warning. He did not look back to watch his uncle vanish with Rey’s projection, but he sensed it all the same.

He came back himself with a gasp, falling out of the Force more violently than usual. Reflexively his hands smacked out on the cold steel floor to keep him from falling on his face. The impact should have stung his many cuts, but they didn’t hurt. They weren’t sore. And they should be. Bacta patches took hours to work and - _No. That’s not possible. I can’t have been gone that long._

He ripped the bandages and Bacta patches from his palms, his stomach dropping at the perfectly healed skin he found underneath. It had been hours. Kylo scrambled to his feet and rushed out of the ‘fresher, sliding to a halt in front of the chrono. Four hours. He had been meditating for almost _four hours_.

 _“_ Fucks sake.” He growled, reaching for his helmet and gloves and jamming them on angrily. He called his saber to him absently and clipped it to its proper place on his belt. Giving into his emotions, Kylo paced the room with long, anxious steps.

Hux was going to be here any minute and he was nowhere near the level of ready he needed to be to prepare for this battle. He needed to be Supreme Leader Ren, dark, angry, powerful and in command of himself and his troops. He couldn’t be further away from that persona than he was currently. He was scared.

Kylo Ren was suddenly an adolescent boy at the Jedi temple again, full of longing and loss. He couldn’t do this. He was going to fuck everything up, because he was a fuckup and everything he touched turned to ash and bone. He could count on one hand the amount of people in the Resistance that mattered to him personally in even the most minor of ways, and if he couldn’t get his shit together they were as good as dead. Rey would be dead. The girl who believed in him despite his utter brokenness. And if she died it was his fault.

_Kid, concentrate._

That voice - it can’t be.

 _“..._ Father?” Ben Solo stopped dead in his tracks, whispering into the silence of his office. He was not expecting a reply; but somehow, he allowed himself to hope for one all the same.

It was his father’s voice - he’s heard it as clear as day. He whirled around, stalking the room looking for the blue tinged figure of a Force Ghost, but of course there was none. Han Solo hadn’t been the slightest Force sensitive - a fact that had driven a wedge between them as Ben had grown older and his outbursts of uncontrolled power had become more frequent. There was no logical explanation for what he had heard – none at all. Perhaps it finally happened, he was cracking up. An _insane_ fuckup, that’s what he needed -

 _Concentrate_.

Hux chose that moment to stride into his office, the strangest bound in his step. The ginger menace was never so happy as when he was going to war. It appeared that he had redone his hair for the occasion - not a single strand was out of place and his usually crisp black uniform looked like it could cut people on the creases.

“Supreme Leader.” He bowed, and this time it was only the slightest bit disrespectful. “The fleet will be moving out of hyperspace shortly. I have gathered the ground forces and pilots in the hangar bay where they are to await their instructions. Would you care to make a speech to those assembled and eh, rally the troops, so to speak?” Hux’s eyes glittered with a spark of feral bloodlust that Kylo had once nurtured in himself as well. Now, all he could see was Rey’s face, pale and slack in death, all from an order he had given. The girl made him weak.

_Concentrate._

_“_ Of course, General Hux.” Kylo strode out of his office, the red-headed general and several imperial guards trailing in his wake as they made their way to the elevator. His black cloak snapped around his ankles with each stalking step, lightsaber hilt thumping against his side with each long stride. He would do what needed to be done. Too much was at stake otherwise.

The lift started its slow crawl to the lower floors, and Ben Solo ceded control to Kylo Ren. He straightened his back and leveled his gaze. This was what was needed. He would do what must be done. For himself, for Rey, for his family.

The Darkness surged forward, power singing through his veins in anticipation of use. If the hair on the back of General Hux’s neck rose in response to the sudden static electricity crackling in the elevator, he wisely didn’t mention it.

 _Concentrate_.

Supreme Leader Kylo Ren stepped out of the elevator in front of thousands of stormtroopers. They immediately took a knee before him, ready and willing to die at his command. And many would. Kylo could see the blood dripping from his hands already as he lifted them skyward, a fiery speech worthy of Snoke himself forming on his tongue. Words he no longer meant tumbled from his mouth to reverberate throughout the hanger and the ears of those gathered inside it. Hollow words from a hollow man.

When he fell silent, Hux roared a command and thousands of footfalls marched in time as men and women in armor loaded themselves into transports and fighters to die. All throughout the hanger, as far as the eye could see, were metal coffins that he had helped to build as surely as if he had constructed them with his own two hands.

He closed his eyes in a gesture he hoped looked contemplative to anyone else watching. But inside, he concentrated on the face of his father, and on what it meant to atone for sins.


	8. Chapter 8

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

When Rey awoke, she was no longer in her small room. Her right arm was slung around someone’s neck, her sock-clad feet dragging along the cold metal floor. Four fingers were tightly digging into her left hip. As her head lolled on her shoulders, blurry lights swam in her vision, flashes of color symbolizing people rushing by darted in and away. There was a definite sense of movement - she was being dragged somewhere? _Fucking hell, I’m tired of waking up disoriented in strange places. What I life I lead._

She stumbled, trying to put her feet under her and reorient herself, only to almost topple Poe in the process.

“Oh good, fabulous, you’re awake. Can you walk?” The pilot looked at her with a grime-streaked face, his dark curls flattened with sweat and jawline set with tension. He didn’t slow his steps as he asked the question, every line of his body screaming that this was an emergency and they had to _move_.

An explosion rocked the ship, and Rey lost her tentative footing and landed on her ass on the cold floor. Any other time Poe probably would have laughed before offering her a hand up, but this time he only hauled her roughly to her feet and resumed dragging her down the corridor.

“That’s a no. The Jedi said you may have some trouble. Come on, keep up the best you can, we have to meet the Falcon in the aft hanger.”

“What’s happening?” Rey shouted over the sudden blaring of an alarm klaxon.

“Can’t you tell? We’re all about to have a lovely picnic in the vacuum of space.” The lights flickered, and Poe gritted his teeth and picked up the pace, hip-checking an unfortunate passerby in his haste. All around them, people were streaming in different directions, and panic reigned.

“ _What’s_ happening?” Rey repeated, her numb feet finally shedding the pins-and-needles feeling so she could stand on her own. She wrenched her arm from Poe’s grasp and sped up to run beside him, trying to give the pilot some more freedom to move.

“The First Order found us. They’ve called up what looks like their entire fleet -” a pause to help up a fallen engineer before turning down a dogleg corridor that contained mercifully fewer people “- and it ain’t going so well for us. This bucket of bolts is done for. All hands evac was called a few minutes ago. Your creepy space grandpa -”

“You mean Master Luke? Where is he?” Fear shot through Rey’s belly, and she sought Luke’s signature in the Force, using just enough concentration to catch a brief glimmer. Still flickering. He was fine.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Poe grabbed Rey’s arm and yanked her away from the wrong way she had been heading down. “He’s with General Organa. When shit started going down, Finn and I had been trying to bring you a late dinner. Space Grandpa opens up your door before we could even knock -” another ship-rocking blast nearly bowled Rey off her feet, but Poe grabbed her arm and braced them against the wall.

“- and he was holding you all passed out, and basically throws you to me and says he had to run, that he had to warn Leia about something. Before we could even begin to process how strange _that_ was -” another pause, this time to peer through the window of the right half of the aft hangar bay, which was now filled with floating debris, and a giant window where there had once been a wall. Crystallized blood floated past the window. It was a total vacuum. No survivors.

They exchanged a meaningful look before resuming their breakneck pace to the left side of the hangar bay. Poe fished a small comm out of his pocket and activated it. “Finn, did you make it to the Falcon?” There was no reply, only static. Poe swore angrily and put the comm away.

“Anyways, all hell broke loose. Finn ran ahead to get instructions and I stayed behind to drag your sorry butt along, so you’re welcome, darlin’.” Poe slid to a stop in front of the hangar door just as the blaring klaxon died. The absence left a buzzing ring in Rey’s ears - the silence was almost worse.

Poe cursed violently. “We’re officially out of time. We better hope Finn and the others have beat us there, because we’ve got to dust off _now_.” He slammed his fist against the door control, the beleaguered hanger door opening only a crack in response. The power flickered around them a few times, threatening to go out. They were about to be dead in the water.

“Fuck.” said Rey simply, and gathered the Force to her. A brief wave got Poe well out of her way, even as he cast her a skeptical look. Power tingled between her shoulders, down her forearms, circling her palms and finally surged from her fingertips - she was a live wire. With a grunt of exertion against the failing locking mechanics, Rey pulled the doors open just wide enough for them to squeeze through.

Rey dropped her arms, panting, and jumped through the small opening before pulling Poe along behind her, ignoring the befuddled expression on his face. The two of them barreled through the mostly-empty hanger towards the Falcon _,_ whose boarding ramp was still down. Rey could see Chewie in the pilot’s chair, roaring something unintelligible and gesturing to Finn, who stood behind him looking lost.

Rey thundered up the ramp with Poe on her heels, screaming down the hallway to the Wookie. “Chewie, get us out of here!”

Chewie roared, and the Falcon was in the air before Rey could finish slamming her palm on the ramp control. The deck pitched beneath their feet, and both Poe and Rey lost their footing as the Wookie banked the ship harshly.

“ _Main gun! Blast us out! Stormtrooper can’t Speak.”_ Chewie’s frustrated growl rumbled down the hallway.

“Rey! What’s he even saying?” Finn yelled, sounding completely lost. “Rose and I can’t -”

 _Rose_? “Stay put and buckle up!” Rey called back, grabbing Poe by the collar of his flight suit and hauling him in the opposite direction from the cockpit. “I’ve got it, Chewie!”

“The hell - you can understand that?” Poe looked both surprised and amused. “We’ve been taking bets on what he really means when he roars for a _week_ now -”

Rey practically threw Poe into the chair for the lower gun and clambered up to the top one herself. “Save it, we have to blast these bay doors open or we’re done for. Power’s gone.”

Poe didn’t need to be told twice. Even on the older control system of the Falcon, he was a natural. A twist of the chair and two button-presses were all it took for the ship to be free to soar into space. The Falcon was out of the gap in the ruined door like a shot, leaving their doomed vessel behind.

Rey exhaled, rubbing the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes for a moment. Then the scream of a short-range fighter rang in her ears, sending a shockwave down her spine. _Shit_. She glanced down the hatchway at Poe, who was already twisting in his chair to identify the direction of the fighters.

“It’s not over yet!” Poe crowed, pulling his headset on and motioning for Rey to do the same. “I knew we’d run into a TIE or two. You’d better get ready!”

Almost as the words left his mouth, two attack ships streamed after the Falcon. Chewie banked the ship sharply, causing one of the TIEs to appear almost directly in front of Rey’s viewfinder. Her finger tightened on the trigger reflexively, blasting the fighter out of the sky.

Poe whooped below her and pivoted downward, bright red energy bolts chasing the other fighter for a moment till it, too, ended in a streaky explosion.

Rey could clearly see five more fighters heading their way, and she began firing on the nearest one. “Poe, look left!” She cried as another TIE exploded into a shower of sparks and metal.

“Got it!” Poe dispatched another one _. Say what you will about the Falcon, but her guns were still good._ Rey squeezed the trigger again, energy bolts chasing the tail of another fighter who dodged them at the last moment.

“ _Jumping to hyperspace. Path is clear.”_ Chewie growled over the headset, and the stars in front of Rey turned into blue streaks as they left the First Order behind.

Rey cursed in Huttese and fell back against the chair in relief as the blue-white of hyperspace washed over her. Poe whistled appreciatively from below. “Damn, Rey. I do love that filthy mouth.” Chewie’s amused chortle crackled over the comm. Rey laughed herself, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Mid-chuckle, she brushed her complicated braid with her fingers and suddenly realized the implications of their escape. It was a sobering thought, and her smile froze into a grimace on her face.

“Who all made it on the Falcon?” She asked quietly. The tone of the atmosphere in the ship took on a funerary quality. It wasn’t who was here – it was more about who wasn’t.

“ _The Stormtrooper is here with me.”_ Chewie roared. “ _His friend is in the lounge with the droid-friend of Poe. Princess and Luke are not with us.”_

“Care to translate?” Poe’s voice grew closer as he climbed the ladder back up to the main level. Rey swung down to join him, taking off the headset. “Finn, and apparently Finn’s friend made it on. BB-8 is here on board as well. Master Luke and General Organa...” Rey trailed off, gesturing helplessly and looking at the floor. She felt a small piece of her braid break free of its binding to brush against her cheek, and quite irrationally the thought of losing her hairstyle grieved her. The love behind it was invaluable, and Rey needed that love more than ever.

Poe shook his head, a half smile quirking his mouth. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m going to assume the other one is Rose. That’s actually all of us who were supposed to make it on.” He frowned, seeing Rey’s melancholy expression. “Don’t worry about the General and your Luke. There were loads of other transports. They sent us in the Falcon on purpose - I think the General is treating Chewbacca a bit like a big furry babysitter for her troubled kids.”

Rey tried to smile but knew the expression on her face was likely closer to a grimace. “He’s not “my” Luke. If he’s anyone’s Luke, he’s the General’s. That is her brother, you know. And anyway - I’m sure you’re right.” She wasn’t at all sure but didn’t feel like taking this line of conversation any further with the pilot. It was something she could suss out herself with the Force, but she needed to be able to concentrate.

“Speaking of Chewie - let’s go join everyone else.” Rey figured that if everyone else got talking, no one would notice if she went silent for a little bit.

“Everyone else is joining you.” Finn’s voice rang down the hallway, footfalls echoing in the small space. The Wookiee walked closely behind him, grousing about the furry babysitter comment in a series of low growls.

“Finn!” Rey cried, with real happiness. She hugged the former stormtrooper tightly, inhaling the faint scent of spices and space from his jacket. Finn returned her embrace readily.

“You look well.” She said softly, trying not to remember that the last time she had seen him he had been nearly destroyed by Kylo’s lightsaber. Ben’s lightsaber. Finn nodded tightly, averting his dark eyes. Obviously his near-death on Starkiller wasn’t something they were going to talk about just yet.

 _Not Kylo. Ben_. The thought of him was a raw ached in her chest. She longed to be alone to try and contact him but knew that she had to wait for a better opportunity. It was already going to be hard enough to explain the details of her time away to Finn and Poe - she really didn’t want to complicate things unnecessarily. They were already plenty complicated.

She settled for a small tug on the Bond. _I’m here_. She thought. _I’m safe. I hope you are too._ Was the light pressure just her imagination, or had Ben reached back out to her? She gently tested the link, but found it shut tight from the other side. She tried not to worry.

As Poe moved to clap Finn on the back, Rey walked over to Chewie and patted him affectionately on his forearm, earning herself a _Rrruugggh_ and a giant furry hug. She smiled and tried not to show that her ribs were groaning slightly.

“Seriously _._ I need to know how you understand him.” Finn was staring at Rey like she’d suddenly sprouted a second head. “I have literally no idea what he’s saying. He just... sounds like engine noises.” He gestured artlessly with his hands as if to demonstrate his point.

The Wookiee chuckled and released Rey from his embrace. He folded his arms over his chest, causing the bandolier to clink together. This conversation plainly amused him.

Rey shrugged, plucking a long hair from her moss colored tunic. Who knew Wookiees shed? “Jakku wasn’t good for - well, hardly anything, really, but I did have a large sampling of offworld traders - and outcasts. Shyriiwook isn’t as uncommon as you might imagine. I can’t speak it at all - and I’ve tried, actually - but I can understand it just fine.”

Poe barked out a laugh. “I’m going to need to hear that. I can’t imagine these giant growls and roars coming from you, Rey.” Finn was smiling as well, bright white teeth flashing strikingly against his dark skin. It was a good sight, his smile.

Rey held up her hands, backing away from the pair of humans. “No, no you won’t. Not now, not ever. It’s abysmal.”

“Oh, it’s useless to resist, Rey. It’s a fact that’s been burned into my brain now. Rest assured, this topic will come up again.” Poe’s bright brown eyes and playful smirk softened his features as he teased her.

“ _I_ _should like to hear you try to Speak someday.”_ Chewbacca chuckled again, before turning to head down to the small gathering area and kitchen. He gestured over his shoulder at the other three, motioning for them to follow him. He was intentionally making nonsense noises, as if he was teasing her, interspersed with his rough growling laugh as he padded down the hallway.

Rey trailed slowly behind the Wookiee, lost in the jumble of her own thoughts, when she realized something. Not only was she still in just her socks, but her only pair of underwear and bindings were now, presumably, so much space dust. She crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously and suppressed a sigh. Isn’t that just the way?

Then another, much worse thought floated through her mind. _My lightsaber._ So much had happened since she woke up, she hadn’t even thought to ask for it. And now it was gone forever. Rey felt that loss in the pit of her stomach, something worth far more to her than some simple items of clothing. It had been Luke’s father’s lightsaber - she had carried it back to him, a talisman to goad him home.

It was the touchstone for this completely improbable journey she has found herself on - it had meant something far more important than the sum of its parts. And now it was just... gone.

Poe and Finn hustled past her, seemingly unaware of her predicament. They were deep in conversation and barely even noticed her presence. Rey knew this was the perfect opportunity to slip off and reach out to Master Luke with the Force, but she couldn’t stomach being alone right now. All her life, she had precious few things to call her own, and even fewer people she could care about that genuinely cared about _her_ , too. Friendship was a foreign concept when you lived hand-to-mouth, fighting every day for enough food to keep from starving the next. But here - right in front of her, she had three people she cared about, who cared about her right back.

Rey resumed walking down the hallway of the _Falcon_ , resolve quickening her steps. She would never be able to concentrate enough to reach out if she were alone right now. If she allowed herself to be alone, she would wallow in her fear and her loss. No - the best place to be was together. She could head the beeps and whines of BB-8 as he jabbered at Poe, the faint sounds of conversation cheering the air. Even in the midst of the crisis they found themselves in, the atmosphere was one of comfort.

She immediately regretted her decision to press on when she rounded the corner into the common area. The first thing she saw was the bubbly, glowing face of the girl who must be Rose staring up at Finn as if he was the only thing in the room. Rey stopped dead in her tracks and blinked. Finn’s _friend_ , indeed.

Her stomach dropped to her toes, her palms sweating. Suddenly Rey felt acutely aware of her shabby clothes, her lack of bindings. She crossed her arms over her chest, vulnerability making the lines of her body tense. Rey backed against the wall by the door, only stopping when her heels bumped into the steel. She wished - she needed - oh _Maker_.

Rey’s problem with the scene in front of her didn’t stem from Rose. In fact, she rather liked her first impression of the girl. Rose radiated happiness and kindness with an undercurrent of resolute strength. Her shiny black hair, sweet round face, and short stature were in stark contrast to Finn’s height and somewhat more angular features. She was built on softness and curves, with youthful features falling into womanhood. Her brown mechanic’s jumpsuit was rolled at the sleeves, revealing scarred forearms that were slightly dirty from her machine work.

No, the problem was not Rose. It was the strange ache in her chest when she saw how Finn was holding her. The unguarded emotion written on his face made Rey want to turn on her heel and leave. She could literally feel how much the former trooper wanted this girl to be in his arms, with him, _together_. It made the air thick, and heavy, and a little hard to breathe. It _hurt_. It wasn’t that Rey wanted to be the one in Finn’s embrace instead - that wasn’t it at all.

It was the sudden realization that Rey wanted to be in _Ben’s_ arms. She wanted the freedom to look at his pale face, scarring and all, and to have her own honest emotions choke the air the way Finn’s and Rose’s did. She wanted to laugh and sink back against his chest during a conversation. She wanted his eyes to follow her across the room. She wanted his large hands on her arms, on her waist, on her hips and oh _Maker_ , she was completely and utterly fucked. Because that wasn’t a scene that could ever play out in the company of her friends. Her family.

Rey’s palms grew hot and sweaty, her face red. No, this was a mistake. She needed to go, and quickly. She needed to be alone. Alone was good. Alone was safe. She began to slowly back out of the commons when Rose noticed her. When she saw Rey, her round face lit up like a firefly and she gave a gasp of surprise.


	9. Chapter 9

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

“You’re Rey!” Rose said brightly, making her way from where she and Finn had been sitting over to the doorway where Rey waffled in her indecision. “Oh, I’ve heard so much about you from Finn and Poe - well mostly Finn ‘cause Poe didn’t know you all that well but all the same they’ve been so worried about you! It’s so good to finally meet you!” And without further ado, Rose launched herself into a hug. Rose’s small stature belied her strength - her hugs could give a Wookiee’s a fair fight. Rose’s dark hair tickled Rey’s nose, and she smelled of machine oil and, inexplicably, baked goods.

Despite her prior misgivings, Rey found herself returning Rose’s embrace without reservations. It was practically impossible to not be charmed by this upbeat girl. She caught Finn’s eye over Rose’s head and resisted the urge to wink at him, of all the foolish things. Finn just grinned like a madman. Poe was too busy with BB-8 to notice much of the exchange.

Rose released her after a moment but held both of Rey’s hands in her own. The other girl’s palms were small and rough, but warm. Her bright demeanor suddenly faded into a look of uncertainty. “Uh, that was forward of me. I’m sorry. I can get a bit, uh, carried away. I’m Rose - Rose Tico. I’m a mechanic.” Rose smiled up at her somewhat sheepishly. If Rey didn’t know better, she would have said the other girl was star struck. But that was ridiculous. She was Rey-from-Nowhere. Nothing about her was special.

Rey returned Rose’s smile reassuringly. If there was one thing Rey would never knowingly reject, it was honest affection given unreservedly. “Don’t think anything of it, Rose.” Rey said softly, giving her hands a small squeeze. “I’m pleased to meet you.” And she was.

Rose beamed brightly back at her, bouncing on the balls of her feet before looking down at the floor. Her smile creased into a frown, and she pointed at Rey’s socks. “Did you run all the way here without shoes?”

Poe looked at Rey’s feet. Finn looked at her feet. BB-8 rolled over and whistled cheekily. Even Chewie was looking. Rey rolled her eyes.

“Not exactly my first choice. You spend a week in what basically amounts to a coma and you sort of just get what you get.” Three pairs of eyes stared back at her blankly. The Wookiee’s narrowed slightly, knowing Rey was going to have to do some quick thinking to avoid giving away more than she should.

She was going to have to give her friends a highly edited explanation for the last several months - and carefully edit out all mentions of Ben and the thrice-damned Force Bond. She needed a distraction, fast, while she came up with another tale to tell them. She scrambled for something, anything, to say to redirect her impromptu audience from the last months of her life. “At least Master Luke found me the socks. It would have been a lot worse barefoot.” _Oh, yeah, nice job Rey, because that’s not a completely ridiculous sentence._

Rose’s eyes grew as big as saucers. “You mean... _Luke Skywalker_ gave you _socks_?” Distraction found. The girl was definitely star-struck this time.

“That is such a Creepy Space Grandpa thing to do.” Poe was shaking his head, perched on a bench across the room. “Is it a Jedi custom to withhold footwear or something? And why were you passed out anyways? What happened to you while you were off hunting for that old Jedi? You obviously found him. It’s a long way to our next stop, and I think you owe us some answers.” He folded his arms across his chest, looking down his nose at Rey from his perch on top of a battered storage crate.

Rose was aghast and turned on her heel to wave a small finger at the pilot. “Poe Dameron.” She stomped over to him, finger practically up his nose as she continued her diatribe. “You will not call _Luke Skywalker, destroyer of two Death Star_ _s_ , anything other than ‘sir’ in my presence from now on, do you understand? The nerve of some people. No respect, just none.” Rey stifled a laugh at the righteous indignation rolling off the other woman, and Poe’s slightly sheepish look in response.

Rey made her way over to where Finn and Poe were sitting as Rose gave Poe a final stare before returning to her seat.

“Story time, Rey. I’m going to need a really good explanation for all of this weirdness.” Finn had settled himself next to Rose and was apparently ganging up on Rey for answers.

Chewie roared from inside the kitchenette, having locked himself once more in his on-again, off-again battle with the food synthesizer. The three other humans jumped at what sounded like a very angry noise, but Rey just called back for him to leave it alone for now and grab a ration bar if he was really that hungry.

Rose’s jaw dropped again, and she grabbed Rey’s arm. “And you _understand the Wookiee._ ” Her eyes were as wide as saucers. “Is it because of the Force?” Rose whispered the last part as if she was in a temple - quiet, reverent. Full of awe.

“No, no, not the Force, it was Jakku - wait, where are we going that’s going to take so long? I don’t even know the plan.” Rey rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. So much was happening. And it didn’t look like she was going to get a moment to herself anytime soon.

Finn ran his hands over his short hair before dropping them on the dejarik table they were gathered around. “I’m actually not sure, but it’s ages away from here. We are all supposed to meet up over the next two or three days and regroup. The General sent out coordinates as the attack began and it became apparent that we needed to scatter. She never mentioned the planet name, though...” he narrowed his eyes and pulled a battered datapad from his pocket. “Do you recognize these?” He turned it towards the group.

One by one, everyone shook their heads. Chewie ambled back over to the table, carrying a ration bar after apparently deciding that discretion was the better part of valor regarding the food synthesizer. He leaned down, taking the datapad from Finn with more force than was probably necessary. After studying the readout for a moment, he looked hard at Rey. _“Ahch-To. Why would Princess send us all there?”_

Rey shook her head, trying to infuse her words with more meaning than would be plainly apparent to the others. “Chewbacca doesn’t know either. I guess we’ll all find out together in a few days.”

A contemplative hush fell around the table, and Rey could practically feel the Wookiee’s eyes boring into the back of her head. They were going to have to chat, that much was sure. When had everything gotten so complicated? At least Chewbacca couldn’t spill her story to anyone here - they’d never understand him even if he did.

Rose yawned abruptly, breaking the silence. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m beat. It’s nearly midnight ship’s time by now, and I went on-shift at 0530. If we’re truly in a holding pattern, is there any harm in catching up on some sleep?” _Perfect. Rose to the rescue._

Rey stood up from the dejarik table and stretched, eager to escape what was sure to be a well-meaning but intense interrogation into her activities of the last few months. “Sure. Finn knows where the bunks are - just around the corner. I’ve slept enough.” She chuckled darkly at that statement. “You three get some rest. I’ll keep Chewie company and work on fixing the food synth, so that we can eat something other than ration bars. We’ll catch up tomorrow.”

The others agreed readily, but even amid his concession Poe caught her eye with a knowing glance. The dark-haired pilot had seen right through Rey’s flimsy excuse to shove them all off. Rey met his gaze evenly, quirking an eyebrow up. He would get his answers soon enough.

Finn was now stifling his own yawn. Rey had learned that the former trooper was highly suggestive to the idea of sleep - an odd quirk from essentially being programmed to do things at certain times throughout his entire life. “Bunks aren’t far. ‘Night Rey - see you later.” Finn placed his hand on Rose’s shoulder to guide her out. Poe held Rey’s look long enough to cut his gaze over to the couple and roll his eyes with a smirk. Rey matched it.

She watched the three of them disappear down the hall before she exhaled the breath she was holding. _Thank the Maker. Now I have time to come up with a better lie. And to meditate._ The more time wore on, the more scared she was to try and reach out with the Force. She was afraid of what she would find. From what little she knew; the Force should have allowed her to sense the death of those close to her as it was occurring. Luke had mentioned as much to her in passing during their time on the island, but she hadn’t the faintest clue what that would have felt like, or if it would have been strong enough to cut through the complicated emotions of the last few hours.

 _Ben_. The ache in her chest began afresh as her imagination ran wild, presenting her with all sorts of hellish scenarios involving her bondmate. Rey stuffed her train of thought violently back in the box she kept all her secrets in. Now was not the time.

She walked over to the Wookiee, who had begun his assault on the food synth with renewed vigor. “Chewie, I’m going to go sit in the cockpit for a bit -”

“ _Do what you need to. I am worried too.”_ The Wookiee grumbled lowly, banging on the front panel of the decrepit machine with a hydrospanner. “ _There are some boots that may fit you in a storage locker. I will look while you talk to the Princess and Little Ben and Master Luke._ ” He waved her off with a large paw. “ _Go. I will manage.”_

Smiling slightly, Rey patted his brown-furred shoulder and walked away down the short hallway to the cockpit. This had always been her favorite room in the Falcon. It was a cramped space, just four creaky chairs, all shabby with age and use. Illuminated buttons and levers blinked and glowed, their light casting her features in an otherworldly hue. A large legacy lived in such a small space - this ship had seen two Death Stars, and the Starkiller base, and lived to tell the tale. She was all but full to the brim with possibility.

Rey ran her hand over the navcomputer, which was busy calculating their route to Ahch-To. Numbers plugged into a terminal could take them anywhere in the galaxy. Anything she wanted to see, anywhere she wanted to go was at her fingertips here. Rey disliked the cold of space, but not the freedom of it.

Rey folded herself slowly into the pilot’s seat, gently tucking her feet under her legs to sit tailor fashion on Han Solo’s chair. Chewie still preferred the copilot’s seat, so more often than not this was her place now. In her mind, it still belonged to the silver-haired smuggler who had taken her under his wing. Who was the first man who hadn’t wanted something from her except for her help. Who had good-naturedly bickered over the repairs to the Falcon with her. Who had wanted to offer her belonging - a real job, with him and Chewie.

A man whom she had repaid by falling head over heels in ridiculous, unrequited puppy love with his estranged son - no, his _murderer_.

Rey put her head in her hands and wished for the tears to just fall already, so they would stop threatening to. When did everything get so complicated? She wanted redemption for Ben Solo - she could all but see the Light in him, in the angles of his face and the raw hope in his eyes. He had killed his former Master, saving her life despite the hold the Dark had over him. He had further killed to protect her in her weakness. She felt the very fibers of her being sing when she was near him - the Force in her body thrumming in the air and drawing them ever closer.

But then the shadows of Kylo Ren’s sins nipped at her consciousness and faltered her convictions.

She had to clear her head. Take Ben or Kylo or whatever he was and her ridiculous need of him out of her mind for long enough to make some sort of real decision about what to do with herself. Rey shook her head, trying to put Ben to the back of her thoughts.

Because how in the world could she ever put him all the way out of her head when he resided there?

Rey closed her eyes, stubbornly ignoring the tears that snuck past her lids as she did so. It had been a hell of a day. She reached out blindly for the Force, grabbing it with both hands and allowed herself to just drift.

Slowly, slowly, her mind began to calm. Serenity and comfort descended on the lost scavenger girl, and Rey embraced them gratefully. The ebb and flow of the universe dried her tears. Peace cloaked her, and she felt the rhythm of the galaxy just as Master Luke had taught her.

 _Master Luke - of course._ Rey stretched out, seeking the signature of her teacher.

 _Ben Solo’s uncle_ , a traitorous whisper echoed darkly in her head. _General Organa’s brother. Han Solo’s friend. You can’t escape this. You’re a fly trapped in amber. Their fates are your fates._

The voice wheedled and wriggled till it felt like it was behind her eyes, trickling along the back of her throat. Rey’s shoulders itched, her skin crawling.

 _Master Luke!_ Rey cried out, suddenly desperate to drown out the voice that was throbbing in her eardrums, even if it was just with senseless shouting of her own. _Master Luke!_

She received no reply, and she realized with resignation that she was unlikely to. It wasn’t as if she had a Force Bond with her master - she didn’t have access to him across the light years and from opposites sides of the galaxy like she did with Ben.

The whisper chuckled, and something akin to the feeling of inky darkness floated through Rey’s consciousness before disappearing. As the blackness receded, Rey sensed the presence of the Jedi. It wasn’t much - it was just a faint flicker of well-being and worry, which Rey assumed was to be expected under the circumstances. She concentrated, trying to reach out to him further. Perhaps, if she could brush his consciousness, she could make her presence known - but every time she stretched, the Jedi seemed to be just past her fingers. Disappointed, Rey shrunk back into herself and allowed her sense of Master Luke to fade back into the Force. He was alive. That would have to suffice for now.

She called then for General Organa - _Leia_ , her memory corrected her. _She wanted you to call her Leia_. Her presence was far easier to find than her brother’s had been - perhaps because Luke had been suppressing his active connection to the Force for so long? Rey didn’t know enough to speculate. Regardless - Leia’s Force connection blazed like a beacon, the catalogue of her emotions dancing like shadow-puppets in the warm light. Anger, primarily. A sense of urgency, a need for a plan. Sadness. Regret. But determination stood out the strongest, and Rey smiled. General Organa seemed quite herself.

She let Leia’s presence fade away like her brother’s, content that the two Skywalkers were largely unharmed. Rey drifted aimlessly for a moment, enjoying the lack of urgency she felt when being cradled by the Force. She released herself slowly from her meditation, coming back to her physical location in stages instead of all at once. It was a much more pleasant experience than being jolted awake while being dragged through the corridors of a dying cruiser.

What a day it had been.

Calmed by her knowledge of the well-being of his estranged family, Rey felt ready to reach out to Ben. Such a silly thing, that she felt she needed to have answers before coming to him. She felt sure he wouldn’t have any for her in return. Despite the nearly all-consuming desire to contact him, Rey was more nervous than ever. It had been easier when their connection was a murky, nebulous thing that neither of them understood. The strange tug of a life-affirming, carnal pull towards another being.

But now, things were different. They had killed together - they had overthrown an erstwhile Emperor, for fuck’s sake. She’d force-magiked his face and body back together, and then he had sent her off without any sort of anything except for a bottle of booze and a note. Both of which she had now lost.

Along with her shoes.

And underthings.

And her lightsaber.

 _That’s it. Fuck it. I’m doing this. What else do I have left to lose?_ An inky black thought whispered to her treacherou _sly. A lot, little lost girl._ The tickle of her not-completely-innocuous crush brushed against her ribcage, reminding her of her pathetic need for affection. For approval.

Choosing to ignore the dark voice of her doubt, Rey grabbed the Bond and yanked hard. It opened for her as easily as it ever had. Standing at the open gateway, she tried to concentrate. She has never tried stepping through on her own - Ben had always appeared to her before now. But she could do it. She had to do it.

Her thoughts were only of Ben - of where he was, what he was doing, and she prepared herself for the fall towards darkness as best she could, holding onto her memories of him like a talisman. It was always disconcerting to see a part of her surroundings blur and turn into something else when Ben arrived - usually something grey and black and austere-looking on the Supremacy. She had no reason to expect this would be any different.

And it wasn’t - not really. It was black and grey and austere just like she had thought. What she didn’t expect was to find herself on the bridge of the Supremacy as Hux was doing a postmortem debrief on the attack on the Resistance. Holoscreens across the bridge were illuminated by the faces of other First Order generals, with their staff assembled behind them. Some of them Rey recognized, others not. The bridge was packed - Rey couldn’t shift even a little without nearly brushing the sleeve of some mid-level First Order lackey.

Rey froze, recalling that no one could see her aside from Ben but not being comforted by that knowledge all the same. As the general’s voice droned on and on, Rey fixed her eyes on the monstrous presence of Kylo Ren on the bridge. She could barely sense Ben in him at all - he was a riot of malevolence and anger held together by the bonds of fear. From the way he loomed over most of the bridge crew, it seemed he was doing a good job of inspiring the underlings to feel the same as him. He never once turned to look at her - it was as if she wasn’t even there. Which, Rey supposed, she actually wasn’t.

Hux’s tone rose sharply, startling Rey from her reverie as he punctuated the air with his raised fist. His face was nearly as red as his hair from his impassioned speech, and the cruelly proud look on his features forced Rey to pay attention.

“All before me, recognize our Supreme Leader, Kylo Ren, who has lead us to this victory over the Resistance! This battle was only the first step in his revenge for their murder of Supreme Leader Snoke. Under his ruthless fist, we will set the galaxy ablaze and remake it in our own image. We are the agents of Order in a cosmos beset by chaos! We are the First Order, and we are victorious!”

The assembled crowd roared their approval, hands raised in a salute as feet stamped and voices shouted a _Hail_ that reverberated in Rey’s bones. Through the forest of bodies, she could finally see Ben - Kylo - looking at her through the mask. She could _feel_ the change come over him - the anger giving way to brokenness. The nearly imperceptible slump of his shoulders. The dip of his head. He hadn’t wanted her to see this. He was ashamed - but why?

The cheers died away, and the holoscreens went dark. Without a word to Hux or his bridge crew, the newly minted Supreme Leader turned and walked through the elevator door and disappeared. And as he did, so did Rey.


	10. Chapter 10

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

All the air had been sucked from the bridge when he met her hazel eyes through the view screen of his mask. He had sensed her through their Bond as soon as she had appeared - it would have been impossible for him not to. Sometimes it seemed like he could sense the fire of her Light across star systems - how could he fail to heed it’s call when it was practically next to him?

But the reality of his actions - and the actions of those he had been responsible for - crashed down on him in an eyeblink. The pain and destruction and death he had caused. He couldn’t look at her, with all her hope and support and light and misguided confidence, with his hands covered in blood. With his hands raised in celebration of the First Order’s acceptance.

Kylo Ren stumbled off the elevator as the door opened, spilling him out into the corridor by his quarters. He groped blindly for the wall to steady himself, acutely aware that Rey’s light had left him for the time being. All the pressure he had put on himself in the last few hours - all his damned _concentration_ \- had obliterated his control. He was slipping. It was only a few staggering steps to his door control, and it took two heavy smacks with his palm for the scanner to even admit him.

Inside, he yanked the gloves off as violently as possible and threw them to the floor. His mask, which would have once been treated with respect or even reverence, was jerked off his head and cast angrily into a far corner, slamming into the wall and bouncing once on the floor before rolling to a stop by the door to the ‘fresher.

For a moment, he debated letting the raging Dark inside him win out and vent his frustration on some helpless walls. The sharp ping of pain in his wrist reminded him that likely wasn’t such a good idea. Hadn’t he broken enough things this day? Ben collapsed on the bed instead, his black hair splaying in all directions around his head. Lying flat on his back in the middle of the of the bed, legs bent at the knee and feet flat on the floor, the ceiling tiles greeted him with familiarity. Kylo closed his eyes with a sigh, reflecting on the pieces of his life.

His wrist ached, and without paying much attention to it he began to unwind the compression bandage. Immediately the pain went from a faint ping to a raging throb, and he closed his eyes against the wave of fresh discomfort. It was a mistake not going to the infirmary. The longer he waited, the longer the Bacta would take to work.

Fuck it. Pain was good. He deserved pain. Maybe he’d just leave it.

_Monster._

“That looks pretty nasty.”

Kylo didn’t even open his eyes. He didn’t have to. He had felt her the instant she opened their Bond, stepping through to materialize like a specter by his discarded helmet. But looking at her – that was a different story entirely.  

So, instead, he growled and rolled to his left to face the headboard of the bed. Anywhere was fine – just away from the direction of her voice. Like a sulky teenager.

Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order, would be winning no awards for maturity today. _My mother would be appalled_ , he thought - and then wished he hadn’t as the regret and shame twisted in his chest. She’d surely take more umbrage with his ordering strikes with the off chance of killing her than his bad attitude, but Kylo was sure neither would have pleased her.

Rey said nothing. The bed depressed slightly behind his back, but still he refused to turn and look at her. He felt glued to his side, eyes still shut, broken wrist held against his chest where it throbbed in time to his heartbeat. He was paralyzed with fear. Was it of her reproach? Or just of himself and his choices?

They sat for a long moment in silence, the only sound the roar of blood in his ears and the soft noises of even breath coming from the girl behind him. Then, another shift of weight and she was further on the bed, sidling closer to his back. Despite himself his eyes popped open in curiosity.

Her small hand rested on his shoulder, and he resisted the strong impulse to shrug it off. Why was his first reaction to be cruel, when all she was doing was showing him kindness? They sat in silence for a moment before Rey’s hand moved to smooth his hair, tucking the loose strands back behind his ear.

“What are you doing?” Kylo said, his voice full of trepidation. He was unused to touch under the best of circumstances, but this was something else entirely. It tore at him, his spirit telling him both to run without looking back and to never, ever leave this strange girl.

Rey was silent, her fingers brushing the shell of his ear as she continued. Kylo shuddered, the desire to vanish stronger than ever. He needed control back – and now.

“Stop that,” He lashed out. “I’m not a child.” Kylo shrugged her hand away, sitting up and moving further up the bed. Away from the danger she represented.

“Oh, I guess I was confused. You’re acting just like one.” Rey smirked, her tone not matching her acerbic words. “And you don’t have to be a child to want to be comforted.”

Kylo finally looked at her properly, trying to push away the unease he felt at the thought of her warm hands. Rey sat tailor-fashion on the end of his bed, legs tucked under her. She was wearing a moss-green tunic and grey leggings, and her feet were covered in nothing but thick brown socks, which looked like their best days were several years behind them. Her hair was done in a braid which reminded him strangely of his mother. The tracks of dried tears were lingering on her cheeks, reddened by a lovely high blush that belied her confident posturing. A few pieces of her hair had escaped to brush her cheek and the nape of her neck. He noted that she was losing her deep Jakku tan, but her hair remained highlighted by the time spent in the sun.

He categorically refused to think about her small mouth, curved slightly into a smile.

 _You don’t deserve her sympathy, murderer. Accepting comfort is weakness_. “I don’t need comfort.” He growled, firmly pulling his feet towards him. He tucked them so he was sitting cross legged as well, a mirror image of Rey. She shrugged and began to pick at the seam of her tunic, as if looking for something to do with her hands.

“Your choice.” She said softly. “I’m here.”

 _And I’m an asshole_. Kylo sighed internally.

They sat in silence for a while, Kylo half sure that Rey would disappear any moment without another word, but she just kept sitting on the foot of his bed. Staring at her hands, folded in her lap. Picking at the seams of her clothes. Shifting her feet slightly so they didn’t go numb. Silently making him regret being born just so he wouldn’t have been such an asshole to her when all she was doing was trying to make him _feel better,_ for Maker’s sake. As if he deserved to _not_ feel like an irredeemable monster.

“It’s good – it’s good to see you unharmed.” Kylo said out at length, the words faint and barely audible. Rubbing a hand over his face, he welcomed the pain from disturbing the healing tissue of his scars.

Rey looked at him and smiled, and it was like sunlight pouring through a window. No words were said, but he didn’t need them. He had felt her lack of animosity through their link as surely as he felt his own shame.

“Master Luke and Gen - Leia - your mother - they’re alright.” She said softly, averting her eyes. All the better, so he didn’t see his flinch at the two names. “I wasn’t sure how it worked for you - if you could feel them yourself - so I searched them out in the Force. I would have anyway, I mean – I had to know… they aren’t with me.” She finished awkwardly, studying her nails.

“Where are you?” Kylo asked quietly. “You were on the Raddus. I could - _Force_ , Rey, I could feel you on the ship as it started to drift apart. I thought you were gone, but I -” he paused, anxiously running his uninjured hand through his black hair. “- I couldn’t do anything about it. I thought you were dead. I thought I killed you.” _But your Light didn’t fade -_ _It’s the only thing that kept me upright._

Rey unfolded herself and moved to sit beside him on the bed, her fingers resting on his forearm. Her touch sent a pleasing jolt down his spine, lingering like the embers of a fire. “I’m fine - I’m just fine. I’m on the Falcon.” _Of bloody course she would be on my father’s rustbucket ship, there’s no possible way she’d end up anywhere else..._

“Master Luke handed me off to Poe and ran to give General Organa your warning - I was still out of it till we were pretty close to the hangar. We got on the Falcon with Chewie and Finn and Rose - you don’t know Rose, she’s a mechanic - and blasted our way out.” She shrugged, as if escaping from a dying starship was a regular occurrence for her. It might be, lately.

“I don’t really know any of them, Rey.” He pointed out bluntly. “Well, excepting Chewbacca.”

“You tortured Poe for the map to Luke.” Rey said tightly, “And Finn’s a former stormtrooper.” _Of course, he was that traitor FN-2187 who helped the pilot escape in the first place. Blood_ y _hell_.

 _“_ Oh. Right.” _The hell else am I supposed to say to that?_

They sat in silence for a long while, Kylo staring at Rey’s hand where it grasped his arm, and Rey staring at her knees which she had drawn up to her chest. Even though her posture was defensive, she had made no move to remove her hand.

“Are you alright?” Her voice was soft and tentative. Like she was afraid to scare him off.

“No.” He said bluntly, huffing a sigh.

“Oh.” A heartbeat.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rey looked up at him, hazel eyes full of understanding.

_So full of hope. There is so much in you for me to break, little girl. I should push you away before I do. But I won’t. Because I am, beyond everything else, a miserable selfish bastard._

_“_ Not - no.” Kylo ran his free hand through his hair, no longer looking at Rey. “Nothing to be done.” _You can’t wash the blood from my hands. You can’t bring my father back._

“There’s always something to be done.” _Rey of Jakku: fixer of broken things, survivalist._

“Not unless you can turn back time, and stop me from... no. There’s nothing, Rey. I am a monster.” _And I’ll destroy you eventually._

“No, you aren’t.” The stubborn set of her upper lip put him in the mind of his mother.

“Yes, Rey. You can’t erase the past just by wishing it didn’t happen.” _Believe me, I’ve tried._

Rey squeezed his arm in sympathy but didn’t argue with him further. “Even on the path we’re on, you always have a choice.” She whispered, not quite meeting his eyes. Kylo hadn’t missed the fact that she had called the path theirs.

He turned his head from her, and the silence returned.

“We’re – this – is getting stronger.” He said slowly as realization dawned on him. “The last time we did this, I couldn’t interact with your environment, just with you.” _I touched your hand, and it changed my life_. “This time it’s as if you were physically here.”

“I think murdering a Sith Lord and all of his best lackeys has a way of bringing people together.” Rey said ruefully, a sort of smirk curling the corners of her mouth upward.

Boldness swept him, and Kylo shifted his arm to gently catch her fingers between his. He half expected Rey to balk and snatch her hand back, but she didn’t. His stomach lurched at the feel of her warm skin on his - it had been years since he had allowed himself this much human contact. His gloves and mask had been both guardians and jailers. But she had stripped him of both. She was his undoing.

Despite having instigated the contact himself, Kylo’s stomach begged him to run. But he was held fast, suddenly made of stone.

“Your, um - your face looks much better than I expected.” Rey’s tone was as hesitant and unsure as he felt. _What, you mean it’s not a bloody ruin of tissue and bone? You don’t say._

He chuckled ruefully and smoothed his free hand over the rough ridges of scars on the left side of his face. “That was all your doing.”

Rey’s eyes grew wide, her face bright and earnest. She dropped her knees back down to the bed, releasing his fingers as she moved to conduct her own inspection. Her fingers ghosted over the uneven lines of his scarring, and despite himself he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. Weak. She made him weak. She made him _need_ her. Kylo Ren needed nothing.

But Ben Solo needed Rey like he needed air.

And so he would tell her everything. He was powerless not to. Fuck secrets, she already resided in his head. Why was he so scared of her?

“I heard my father.” His voice was rough and strangled, even to his own ears. Rey sat on her knees before him, dropping her hand from his face and grasping his injured arm in surprise. He stifled his wince at the movement.

“After - after I came out of meditation where I saw you and -” He choked on his uncle’s name, glossing over it instead of spitting it out. “- when I gave you the warning, I was – not myself.” _And the award for understatement goes to Kylo Ren._ “We were only moments from the attack. I had no time. If I wanted to keep up this cover, I had to be the Supreme Leader. I couldn’t be - I couldn’t be anyone else. I heard him tell me to concentrate. _Concentrate._ And I did. I did what I needed to do to keep myself alive. But only myself.” 

Rey continued to stare at him, unblinking. So close he could see each sun-worn line on her cheeks, the freckles in her hazel eyes. How could she look at him, knowing he had just sent men to their deaths? How could she touch him, knowing that the Resistance was decimated and their blood was running down his hands?

Kylo wrenched his gaze away before he lost all control. As it was, his weakness slipped from his mouth despite its toothsome jailers.

“Everyone who died today – on either side – did so because of me. My order. My command.” His last words were a whisper. _You’re a weak little boy. Your deeds have split you to the bone. Live with your decisions, Jedi Killer, you made them with full knowledge of the consequences. Its not as if you haven’t killed before._

For a moment, all words failed. Kylo felt his guilt pass through the Bond despite his best of intentions, and he resisted the urge to block out the connection entirely and send Rey back to whatever corner of the galaxy the Falcon sped through.

Rey’s tone was soft when she finally spoke. “It’s war, Ben. No one – no one said it was fair. But I do know this - if the First Order’s attack has truly been a surprise, we would be all but be wiped out. Instead we’re in different craft, scattered across the galaxy, but _alive_. Because of you. You’re saving lives that would otherwise be lost if you weren’t... you.”

“We need to end this.” He said softly. His thumb traced a pattern on the back of her hand, half a comfort measure and half a way to be sure the blood he felt on his hands didn’t transfer to her own.

Rey nodded. “The galaxy deserves peace.”

“I won’t leave this war for another set of children to fight and die in.” Kylo’s inane promise to his grandfather rang in his ears. _I will finish what you started_. Perhaps, in a way, he would. The defeat of the Empire began with Vader throwing his master down the central shaft of a dying Death Star because of his love for his son. The First Order’s demise began with Kylo Ren murdering his master because of his love for Rey.

Love. Fuck, there was that word again. He was comfortable with needing her – it was transactional. Kylo was far less comfortable admitting - _that_.

“You’re in a better position than most.” Rey said, simply. “Supreme Leader of the First Order.” She smiled tightly, worry lines deepening.

Kylo scoffed. “It’s meaningless if the generals are against me – any misstep is going to end in a coup.”

“Then we’re just not going to make any mistakes, are we?” Rey smiled again – and this time it was genuine.

Kylo barked out a laugh, followed closely by a snigger from Rey.

“Easy to say, harder to accomplish.”

“Then we’ll just have to concentrate.”

Silence fell once more, and neither of them made the move to break it. Rey’s free hand continued to rest on his elbow, where her fingers gently toyed with the thick fabric of his surcoat. He hadn’t realized she was moving it down his arm until she brushed his wrist above where their hands were joined, and he flinched involuntarily.

“You really have messed up your wrist.” Rey said with a scowl, releasing his hand to hold his injured arm with both hands. She tugged the sleeve of his surcoat back to reveal more of the purple bruising that ran halfway up his forearm. “Can you take this off? I want to get a better look. At your arm.” She amended quickly, the blush returning to her sun-stained cheeks. He obliged, shrugging out of the heavy overcoat with only a little difficulty. He was wearing a well-fitting grey tunic underneath, with sleeves that were rolled to his elbows.

Rey’s touch ran gently from the jutting bone at his wrist to where the bruising stopped halfway up his arm. “What happened? Why didn’t you go to the medbay?” Her tone was chiding – Kylo half expected her to cluck her tongue at him like a disapproving mother hen.  

But he was slowly warming to the idea of having someone who cared. It was almost – but not quite - nice. “I did something stupid, and I ran out of time.” He said – he’d be damned if he was going to admit to having a temper tantrum.

“You could go now?” Rey said, half encouraging him and half reluctant. She plainly didn’t want him to leave.

“No.”

“Oh.”

After a moment, Rey closed her eyes and wrapped his wrist loosely with her fingers. The strange light that he had seen after his - their - battle in Snoke’s audience chamber flowed from her again, and he sat in unabashed awe. The Force was a different entity entirely when wielded in her hands – for him it was raw power, untamed and dangerous as flame. But for her – a sleepy ocean, power lurking in the depths but hidden far beneath.

“How?” The word was church-quiet, a reverent whisper.

Rey’s eyes flew open, her concentration momentarily lost and the light receding. “I don’t - I’m not sure. It’s more like the Force is doing it – just letting me use it this way for only a moment. I can’t replicate it. I’ve tried. Think I could - with more practice. Now be quiet while I concentrate.” Hazel eyes closed again, wrinkling around the corners as she fixated on her task. Kylo’s deep brown eyes never left her face, reveling in the lines on her brow and around her eyes as she focused herself within the Force.

Within moments, the bruising had faded, and his wrist no longer ground together when he moved it. Kylo looked from his arm to Rey with barely-disguised awe. “Incredible.”

And she was.

Rey scoffed, eyes lowering and resuming her defensive posture with her knees drawn to her chest. The ratty brown socks looked strange against his dark bedcovers. “I don’t even know how I’m doing it. It’s useless if I can’t understand it.”

“You will.” Of this, Kylo was sure.

Rey scoffed again, finally removing her hands from his to hug her own arms. “But why me in the first place – for any of this? I’m nothing. Nobody.”

Kylo blinked. Perhaps his own insecurity was bleeding through more than he knew. How could she still think she was insignificant? He shook his head, dark hair brushing her shoulder. Once again, words tumbled from his mouth without his bidding. “Not to me.”

Rey looked up at him, eyes suddenly red-rimmed and glassy. Her words from after her experience after the Cave echoed in his head - _I’ve never felt more alone_. That ill-fated night, the cool wind of her island ruffling the papers on his desk. The near-overwhelming desire to comfort the lonely girl before him, a mirror of his own abandonment. The fear he’d felt as she’d disappeared in a hail of stone.

The same hail of stones that fallen between himself and his family, the same man on the other end.

Without thought, he wrapped his newly healed arm around her, softly tugging her against his side in a halfway embrace. _Not alone. Never alone_. She stiffened at first, and he prepared to have her push him away. But after a moment’s pause Rey melted into him willingly, her head laying against his chest and the loose hairs of her braid tickling his nose. Her arm threaded around his waist, her fingers gently resting over the scar from the bowcaster. She was a pleasant, warm weight against him. It might actually have been the best thing he had ever felt.

They remained that way for a long time, far past comfort. His back screamed at him to straighten out, but Kylo wasn’t going to move until she did.

It took nearly an hour for him to realize that she was asleep.

He wasn’t sure how long she would stay - surely someone on the Falcon would be by to check on her eventually and would rouse her from her meditation - so he wasn’t going to waste a moment. As carefully as he could, he scooted backwards till Rey was fully prone on the bed, still curled as if he was around her. He couldn’t wiggle her under the blanket from this position without waking her, so he grabbed his surcoat and laid it over her instead. He shook his head at his foolishness – it wasn’t as if she was truly here. But all the same – it felt strange not to.

Crossing his legs at the ankles, Kylo folded his long arms behind his head, studying the scavenger as she slept. He liked the way she looked in black. He especially liked the way she looked under his jacket.

And on his bed.

He put a stop to that train of thought and simply watched the rise and fall of her back under his coat. There was so much he needed to sort out in his head, but right now he was just going to enjoy this simple moment.

Kylo hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep until he startled awake a few hours later. As he expected, the place beside him on the bed was empty, his heavy coat covering nothing but air. He stared for a moment, then fell back asleep by degrees. For the first time in a long time, the peace of slumber returned easily.

It was still the small hours of the morning, after all, and he had an Empire to subvert.


	11. Chapter 11

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

“Rey! Rey! Hey - Rey! Hotcakes!” Poe’s voice floated down the hallway, rousing Rey from her slumber. “The Wookiee made hotcakes!” Chewbacca roared in the background, something about having a name other than Wookiee thank you very much, and if he didn’t learn it he could make his own breakfast next time.

 Rey shook herself to clear her head, coming to wakefulness still sitting in the pilot’s seat of the Falcon. _I feel like I just do nothing but sleep anymore._ She complained to herself, even as the dreamlike events of her last meditation replayed in her mind. _Ben_. She smiled, then quashed it quickly in embarrassment. Idiot lovesick female,

  _You watch yourself. You’ve been gone too long, you’re forgetting. The desert still rules, my dear._ That inky-dark voice of her doubt purred, disappearing quickly into the ether.

 Pushing away that uncomfortable discourse, Rey stretched, unfolding her legs and accidentally knocking a pair of boots over as she did. Shoes! With more excitement that was likely strictly necessary, she reached down and grabbed the faded black boots. They were old, the leather stiff with disuse, and very heavy-looking - a definitely masculine style - but they were shoes! Rey slipped them on gleefully, doing up the buckles with gusto, and clomped out of the cockpit in her new boots.

When she made it to the galley, she found she was the last one in. Finn waved her over, patting the other corner of the crate he was perched on. The smell of fresh hotcakes wafted through the air, and Rey was suddenly starving. It had been a long time since her last real meal - a feeling she had been used to on Jakku, but the desert was further away now, and she had become accustomed to at least having one decent meal a day.

She hopped up on the crate next to Finn, who gave her a round-cheeked smile, his mouth being full of breakfast at the time. Rose waved cheerily from the other side of the former trooper, and Poe didn’t even bother look up as he jabbered with BB-8 in between bites of food. “Nice boots.” He said offhandedly as he shoveled in another bite of food. Chewie appeared to have made enough to feed a small army - or, approximately five Wookiees.

“ _Fixed the synth last night.”_ Chewbacca grumbled as he set down a plate in front of Rey. “ _But_ _hotcakes taste better when hands make them.”_

Rey smiled happily at Chewie as she picked up her fork and took a generous bite. “They do indeed. Thank you also for finding me some shoes.”

The Wookiee growled softly. “ _They are Little Ben’s.”_

Rey felt her sunny smile falter for a moment but tried to cover it with another bite of breakfast. The soft cake turned to ash in her mouth as reality crept in again. She hadn’t even been awake for ten minutes and she was already struggling.

Luckily, there was Rose to bring her back around again. “So, you get socks from a Jedi Master and new boots from a Wookiee. Dare I ask where your clothes came from? Alderaan?” She was teasing her, a warm smile curving her lips between bites of food.

Rey found herself laughing despite the tightness in her chest. “I actually found them in the closet in the room where I woke up back on the cruiser. They are no-one’s, as far as I know.”

“They look ancient.” Finn quipped. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they were from Alderaan. You have the weirdest luck.”

“Getting socks from a Jedi Master wasn’t even the strangest part of my day. You have no idea.” Rey laughed before she realized what exactly she had said. She could hear Chewie stop puttering around the kitchen, listening carefully to what was going to be said next. 

Thankfully, Rose simply shrugged and said “Well, it’s not every day your boat gets blown up by the First Order.” Finn and Poe nodded in agreement.

The silence was broken only by the sounds of utensils clattering against plates, everyone making short work of the warm breakfast. Chewbacca grumbled to himself from the galley, nonsense noises mixed with gentle admonitions to the cooker to continue working.

“So, Rey -” Poe began, folding his hands over his cleaned plate.

Rey swallowed her mouthful quickly and jumped in before Poe could finish his thought. “So - how much longer till we get to... wherever it is?” Rey was desperately trying to keep it cool and not bring the conversation back around to her nearly disastrous offhand comment.

Poe responded, watching Rey warily. “About 20 more hours. We’ll have a chance to sleep again, at least. We’ll make planetfall early tomorrow morning.”

“I just wish we knew what we were walking into.” Rose was toying with a silvery crescent pendant hanging from a cord around her neck, chewing her lip contemplatively. “It could be anything. Have we gotten any communications at all?”

Everyone shook their heads, even Chewbacca as he emerged from the kitchen. BB-8 beeped sadly. But, as if on cue, Rey could hear a faint pinging from the cockpit. She swallowed her bite and motioned for the rest of them to follow her as she barreled out of the room. Five pairs of feet and one round droid thundered down the short hallway and crammed into the cockpit, Rey nearly having to leap over Poe to claim Han’s seat. Rose remained standing in the back with BB-8. Chewie flicked open the comm channel, and everyone crowded around the small viewfinder expectantly.

“Gracious, what a sight you all are.” General Organa’s voice was fraught with relief. “I was trying to raise you for hours last night but couldn’t get a channel to open up. We’ve moved out of that ion storm now, and all appears to be fine - regardless. How are you lot?”

“We’re just fine, General. Hot breakfast and everything.” Poe volunteered. His fingers plucked the back of Han’s chair, clearly anxious. “How’s the fleet? What’s our status?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know for sure, Poe. The evacuation wasn’t extremely organized. We’re a bit scattered right now.” General Organa looked very old, and very tired. There was also something she wasn’t saying - Rey could feel it in the Force. She folded her arms over her chest and stared at the older woman. Something was _wrong_.

Rey checked the Bond carefully – Ben was awake, but not actively tuned in. She closed their link quietly. She needed to concentrate and having the dark man lurking in the back of her brain was not exactly conducive to that.  

“... I assume you are still heading to the coordinates I provided?”

“Of course, General. Why wouldn’t we be?” Poe was sensing something amiss, too. The pilot was no idiot.

“Good. I will see you there shortly. Our craft will arrive in about 17 standard hours.”

Chewie barked sharply, gesturing to the navcomputer next to him.

“You all are 20 hours away, that’s fine. I’m sure we will see each other soon.” Leia smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Rey’s senses buzzed with trepidation, the hairs on the back of her neck standing at attention. The Force rumbled along her spine. Something was wrong.

 _“_ Poe, Finn, Ms. Tico, you’re dismissed for now. Take the droid with you. I need a moment to speak to Chewbacca and Rey in private, please.” 

The chorus of profanity in Rey’s mind was deafening.

Finn, accustomed to obeying orders without question, nodded to Leia and moved to escort Rose from the cockpit. Poe lingered for a moment, but a glare from the General sent him on his way without any sass. “Come on, BB. Been meaning to check your servos anyways.” He shot Rey a meaningful look on his way out, pressing the door control button with just a hint of frustration.

Leia dropped her shoulders from their stiff, formal pose, becoming an old woman in an eyeblink. She rubbed the bridge of her nose with two fingers, her other hand resting on the table in front of her.

Chewie growled lowly. Rey didn’t need to translate it in order to know he was asking what the matter was.

Leia exhaled sharply. “The meeting with the Council didn’t go well. In fact, that’s not only an understatement, it’s a lie. It went terribly. Rey, they are extremely - and I do mean that in every sense of the word ‘extreme’ - concerned about this Bond you seem to have with Ben. I’ve been outvoted dramatically. It seems -” she paused, scoffing ruefully and smoothing a hand over her hair, “- that when you’re the mother of one of the parties in question, your judgment isn’t taken under advisement. They essentially want you locked in a cell like a criminal. And they want Luke to sever the Bond.” 

An irrational terror like nothing she had previously felt boiled in her belly. Sever the Bond? Separate her from Ben – now, after everything? No. She wouldn’t let them – Luke couldn’t. He wouldn't.

The fear she felt went far beyond the irrational crush she had on the man – it affected her on a cellular level. The Force roiled in her bones in response, static charging the air. Her hands fisted in her loose leggings, nails digging into her palm even through the fabric. 

Rey swallowed, trying to reclaim some of her calm as Chewbacca roared angrily to her right. She was too distracted to even work out the translation, but his displeasure at this news was clear. There may have also been some profanity involved.

The thought of the Bond remained a sickly fear in the pit of her stomach, and the frenetic energy of the Force was making it hard to breath. The sands of Jakku swirled behind her eyes, and the old wounds of abandonment itched.

She had to shut this down. Stay calm, stay in control – you can survive anything.

Finding her voice again, Rey ground out her next words with a harshness not directed at Leia. “Didn’t his warning mean anything? What about Snoke’s death - are they blind?” How could the Resistence be so short-sighted - couldn’t they see the possibilities here? “How many more lives would have been lost if we hadn’t had the extra warning? He’s trying to help us!”

Leia shook her head, extending a helpless palm towards the screen. “Child, I am not the one you have to convince. That’s why I sent you lot to Ahch-To. I wanted you well out of the way of the rest of the galaxy, and in space you were more familiar with than they. Rey, you’re going to have to run. They won’t let you go. They would rather kill you. They are calling you a traitor – a spy.”

Another defeating roar from the Wookiee, and this time Rey definitely caught a nasty Huttese curse in the mix. Panic climbed up her throat, it’s claws digging into her windpipe and stifling her breath. She groped for the arm of the chair, attempting to steady herself.

She could feel her found family slipping away.

Leia calmed Chewie with a wave of her hands. “I know, Chewie, I know. Rey, do Poe, or Finn, or Rose - do they know anything about this?" 

Rey shook her head. “I haven’t said a word.” _Breathe in, breathe out. Focus._

“Smart girl. Don’t tell anyone else about - anything. At all. Nothing. Not one word. Already, I’m quite afraid that Chewbacca is under heavy suspicion as well for his role in dropping you off to the First Order.” 

Chewie roared indignantly. “ _I will leave with Rey. I would not have let her run alone anyway. I have a debt.”_

Rey looked at him askance. “You don’t owe me anything, Chewie.”

“Yes, he does.” Leia and Chewie chorused together. Rey blinked, looking from Leia to the Wookiee quizzically.

“Rey...” a sad sigh from Leia. “Chewbacca owed Han a life debt. It’s a long story. Before he was - before he died - Han must have suspected things would end as they did. He had to. He told Chewie to look after you. Chewbacca’s life debt is to _you_ now.” She smiled sadly.

Rey’s stomach turned in agony, full of Ben’s regret and shame along with her own conflicted feelings.

“Chewie - is that true? Have I been keeping you here?” _With me, like a prisoner?_

The Wookiee roared sadly, shaking his furry head. “ _I would have stayed anyways. You are important to Princess and Han. To Little Ben. And to me.”_

Affection for the old Wookiee swelled in her chest, tamping down the fear that gnawed at her ribs. Rey fought back against the nearly ever-present moisture forming in her eyes, and instead placed a hand on the Wookiee’s furry forearm. He _graorwed_ softly _,_ averting his own eyes _._  

Rey caught a glimpse of a memory then - _Han in binders, Vader behind him and stormtroopers all around him. Chewbacca holding on to Leia’s shoulders. “Take care of the Princess.” Lots of steam and smoke - a thick undercurrent of tension; panic. Leia breaking free and running to Han, capturing him in a desperate kiss._ The scene faded out, and Rey was left with one word.

“Bespin.” She said softly, startling Leia and Chewie both. The Wookiee roared, looking from Rey to Leia quickly and tilting his head in askance.

“Rey - you saw that?” Leia said in alarm, placing both hands on the table before her and leaning forward. Her brow crinkled. “You are stronger in the Force that even my sainted brother thinks if you could catch my memory like that - from so far away.” Leia sat back, a concerned look flashing over her features. “I wonder - I wonder if it’s due to your Bond.”

 _“_ It’s possible.” Rey said, doing some thinking of her own. “My experience seems to suggest that we’d be stronger connected than apart. I only wish I knew more what I was _doing_.”

Leia nodded. “I wish you had more time to learn. Unfortunately, the ringleader of the generals is on this ship with me - Admiral Holdo. She intends to... personally oversee the execution of the generals’ decision.” Anger clouded Leia’s dark eyes. “She thinks severing your connection to Ben and leaving you on this island won’t be enough. Luke has been arguing to stay with you, to complete your training – but she won’t relent. She says he’s too important to her plan – whatever that means. I do know she also planned on having Chewie take the rest of your friends back to the new rendezvous in the Falcon and before taking him into “protective custody” once we have regrouped on the next base.”

“ _I should like to see this small woman try.”_ Chewie growled lowly.

“Obviously Luke isn’t going to sever your Bond. Even if he wasn’t so vehemently opposed, he’s not even sure he knows how. Even now he’s arguing your case in front of the generals one more time. He doesn’t want to lose you like he lost Ben.” Leia’s frankness surprised Rey, but she was more shocked at Luke’s actions.

She suddenly recalled that had never gotten the chance to talk to him after their shared meditation – and even her memories of that event betrayed her, becoming a pain-filled blur that ended in the sight of Poe’s face. Perhaps something had happened then to change his mind.

Leia looked away from the view screen as if trying to collect herself. Faint voices could be heard offscreen - it appeared their time was up. She spoke urgently. “Rey, you know the stories. The Empire was toppled because Vader still loved Luke, and Luke _believed_ in that goodness. Perhaps we can defeat the First Order because we still believe in Ben Solo. I’m not willing to give up on my son.” 

Rey squared her shoulders. Neither was she.

A clattering in the background and raised voices called Leia’s attention away from them, and she cut her eyes back to the view screen with a sense of urgency. “Please - when you talk to Ben again... oh, never mind.” She said, frustrated. “You’re not the carrier of this family’s emotional baggage.” 

 _Honestly, I sort of am._ “General, you can tell him yourself, he’s -”

An alarm klaxon blared in Rey’s left ear, derailing her train of thought. “ _Hyperdrive is dropping!”_ Chewie bellowed and began punching buttons in quick succession. “ _The bypass is failing. Stay here.”_

 _“_ General, we have to -”

Leia raised her hand in understanding. “Go. Fix that bucket of bolts and come up with an escape plan. I want absolutely none of the details. Please be safe.” The viewfinder snapped off as Rey struggled to keep them in hyperspace. Chewie roared something unintelligible and ran out of the door of the cockpit, startling Poe who was apparently lurking around the corner.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuck shit ass kriffing hell –_

Rey leapt into Chewbacca’s seat, reaching behind the headrest for an access panel. No, not that one – the other one. The ship lurched, and Rey was thrown to the floor with a yelp. She scrambled to the other side of the cockpit, clambering into the seat behind Han’s and sliding the access door to the side. _Yesyesyes this one._

Rey flipped a stabilizer level, shrieking in surprise when sparks flew out to singe her hand. She could feel Ben’s presence grow in the back of her mind, roused to attentiveness by her pain.

 _Rey – the fuck…_ the ship bucked again, and Rey slammed her head against the bulkhead with a yelp. _The Falcon’s on her shit again, isn’t she._

 _You think?!_ Rey cried out sarcastically, too distracted to notice that she had said this part out loud. She pulled herself back into the pilot’s chair, twisting another knob to the right and watching the stars blur and bend. Her stomach bottomed out again – they were going to lose the ship if they weren’t careful.

 _Let me help._ Ben came further forward in Rey’s mind, till it seemed as if he was sitting beside her. _Feel me._ Rey welcomed him in without hesitation, their energies blending till every move they made was made in tandem.

Rey’s fingers flew through buttons and levers, feeling oddly thick, as if they were covered in gloves. The Falcon shuddered underneath her feet, buckling wildly but holding herself in hyperspace. Ben and Rey cursed as one and yanked some wiring down from the bulkhead above to inspect it.

A pounding on the door proved to be Poe. He rushed in and flopped in the copilot’s seat, eyes wide with alarm. “This ancient death trap’s falling apart around us. Here, you keep working on whatever that mess is, and I’ll work on keeping us steady.” 

To Rey’s eternal surprise, Ben didn’t argue with the other man, and simply redoubled his efforts to undo the puzzle of wires above Rey’s head. “Where are Finn and Rose?” Rey spoke, but in her head, it sounded like Ben.

 _What a mindfuck._ She thought and reveled in the dark chuckle she received from Ben. It tickled the hairs on the back of her neck.

“Helping the Wookiee - he’s under the floor somewhere roaring up a storm.”

“His name is _Chewbacca_!” Ben and Rey shouted at once, wincing from a stinging spark sent up by the wires. This time, Rey thought she heard a bit of Ben’s tone inside her own.

“Yes! Yes, fine, helping _Chewbacca_!” The Falcon bucked again, and Poe grimaced. “If we don’t get this thing settled soon we’re all going to be so much space dust.”

Chewbacca bellowed down the hallway. “ _Stormtrooper can’t Speak! Tell him to get the hydrospanner from the kitchen!”_

 _“_ Finn! Get the - oh.” As Rey’s hands connected the last wire, the Falcon steadied, and the alarm stopped blaring. The normal blue streaks of hyperspace travel returned. And Rey could feel Ben’s smug elation all the way down to her toes.

Poe whooped and wiped his brow beside her, and Rey grinned. “Damn. How the hell did you manage that one, desert girl?” 

Rey’s voice answered, but Ben’s words came tumbling out. “Experience. And luck.”

Poe chuckled. “Some luck.”

Ben shrank back from the forefront of Rey’s mind, settling back and smiling a true, honest smile. _It worked, Rey. I tested a theory. My memories of the Falcon, and your experience with machines in general. I pulled knowledge from you to fix this ship. It was both of us._

Rey stood to follow Poe out of the cockpit, but lingered as Ben’s words sunk in. _What does that mean for us?_  

 _Don’t know. But, it’s worth exploring._  

_No kidding._

Ben chuckled, but it quickly lost its mirth even in the face of their triumph. _Something else is bothering you – I can feel it._

The brush of his concern warmed Rey down to her toes, and she tamped down the foolish puppy-love response quickly. There was no harm in responding – he’d find out her predicament soon enough. _Yes – there is._

Rey could feel her own eyebrow raising in an echo of Ben’s unconscious expression. _Do tell._ He didn’t sound extremely pleased, the timbre of his voice turning to a low growl.

The jovial voices of Finn and Poe reached her ears – time was short. Too short for a full explanation. _It’s too much to download now – suffice it to say the Resistance leadership isn’t pleased with this new development. I’ve been called a spy, now, that’s a new label for me._

_A spy, what-_

Ben’s angry bark was cut off by Finn slinging his arm around her shoulders and whooping nearly directly in her ear. “Here she is, here’s the girl of the hour!” Rose clamored something that Rey couldn’t quite catch, so distracted was she by the wave of ice-tinged jealousy seeping through the link. Rey couldn’t quite tell if it was because of the lack of credit for his involvement, or the fact that she was held quite close to the trooper’s chest that had Ben so worked up, but she filed the thought away for safekeeping all the same.

Ben’s voice tickled the inner shell of her ear. _Go on. I’ve got a trooper roster to get through._ It was rough, irritated – but she sensed not with her.

 _We’ll talk soon. Do you want me to leave the Bond cracked?_ Rey said it casually, as if asking if he wanted his office door open or shut. But they could both sense it was something more than that. Her palms sweat in the heartbeats between her question and the answer, remembering the sense of her head on his chest, the tickle of his hair on her cheek. With the same breath, she was trying to shove those feelings far away.

 _“What is wrong?”_ Chewie aroo’d softly, seeing Rey’s unfocused eyes and lack of response but not understanding the context. Breaking her daze, she waved him off, patting his furry shoulder while finally returning Finn’s overzealous embrace.

 _Yes_. Ben’s reply was quiet, but the feelings behind it were not – a muddy riot that Rey couldn’t even hope to untangle in the moments she was allowed. Ben leaned out from her active consciousness, becoming nothing more than a whisper at the nape of her neck, a ghost of fingers on her wrist. Her sense of _him_ grew slightly to compensate - mostly a feeling of distaste regarding whatever information it he had to review.

Their Bond was in balance, and the Force around Rey hummed happily as she turned her full attention back to her friends, still joyously celebrating their survival.


	12. Chapter 12

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Barely 8 hours later, and it had been quite possibly one of the most agonizing days in Rey’s recent memory. She was not by nature a duplicitous person and having to keep such a crushing secret from the few people in the galaxy she considered her friends took a large toll on her.

She knew Poe strongly suspected something large was amiss – the pilot had been needling her about it nearly nonstop all day. Finn and Rose had been more low-key, but Rey had most assuredly cottoned on to their not-so-subtle manipulations. Neither of them were double agent material, bless them.

So, just before dinner, Rey had grabbed a ration bar and retreated to Chewie’s room. She figured the other three would be too scared of the Wookiee to try to flush her out of there, and so far, she had been right.

Rey lay in Chewie’s hammock, counting the rivets in the ceiling and thinking hard about her predicament. It was both helpful and unhelpful that she kept getting little glimpses of Ben’s extremely boring day, too. She wondered how much he had seen of hers, but was reluctant to open the Bond further to find out - not because she didn’t want to see Ben, but because she felt like retreating into herself. She was a half-feral scavenger after all, she thought ruefully. Solitude was a constant companion, even if she despised it. Besides - she could sense enough to know that he was dealing with some First Order business, and it seemed important. Better to let him handle it.

Chewie cracked open the door and padded into his room, bearing a packet of some kind of jerky and a bottle of water. He handed them to Rey, who swung out of his hammock and accepted them with a smile.

“ _Everyone else is playing dejarik. They are bad at it. It’s very funny. Are you sure you don’t want to join?”_

Rey shook her head. “I’m no good at lying, Chewie. This has been eating at me all day. I’m going to slip up and say something to put them in danger. Or start a colossal fight. Besides - tomorrow they are all going to hate me, once they know what I’m hiding. They won’t understand. What’s the point?”

Chewie roared softly and leaned against the wall. “ _What’s the point of anything? Just because it is not forever does not make it bad. Why not make more happy memories?”_

Rey shook her head. “I’ve had enough taken from me to know that it’s easier to make as clean a break as possible. Give up all hope of things being different. There’s no disappointment that way. I don’t expect something that was never going to happen in the first place.” _I am alone. I am always alone. I am better alone._

Chewie grumbled and crossed his furry arms. At somewhere around 240 years old, he had enough experience arguing with sulking women - and moody teenagers - to know when dropping a point is the same as making it. “ _Do you know what you will do?”_

Rey sighed, running her fingers over the braid in her hair. “Cooperate. I can’t make things worse for Leia and Master Luke by fighting. It seems as if their position is already tenuous. I’ll go down to the surface, let them make me their scapegoat, paint me as a traitor, whatever they do to justify their actions. After they maroon me here, it’s not like I won’t have Ben to talk to.” She could feel the Bond tingle a bit at the mention of the man, as if rousing to attention. A sense of concern washed over her, and she gently tried to rebuff him without seeming callous.

“ _You’re giving up.”_ Chewie barked reproachfully. “ _That’s not like you.”_

“I can’t see another way, Chewie.” Rey said sadly. “I’m not about to let people I care about get hurt because of me. I’ll be fine.”

“ _I see another way.”_ The Wookiee said pointedly. “ _Cooperate. But, I will come back for you. And we will leave together.”_

Rey shook her head. “Chewie, you can’t. It’s not like they won’t be watching me. And if you tried to leave and come get me, you’d be all alone trying to escape in the Falcon and something is sure to go wrong. Either that, or they are going to strand you here with me in the first place because they’ll suspect you’ll just come back for me.”

The Wookiee chuckled, a funny boofing noise. _“You have no faith in me. You forget. I have done worse.”_

Rey sighed. “It’s not that – I know you can handle yourself. But I won’t let you risk yourself to protect me. I couldn’t stand it if something were to happen to you.”

“ _I have a debt. I made a promise. In the end, it is not your choice.”_

Rey’s eyes filled with tears, and she dashed them away quickly with the back of her hand _. Maker take these emotions, I’m done crying._

 _“_ You had a debt to Han Solo. No matter how kind-hearted he was in asking you to look after me, Han is gone. You have to take care of yourself, Chewie. Besides - I think even Han would agree you’ve more than repaid him.”

“ _A life for a life. The debt stands_.” Chewbacca growled sadly, looking away from Rey. Her heart sank. “ _You heard Princess. My fate is caught up in yours. If they keep me on the island or not, it does not matter. I will not abandon you. It helps neither of us. I stay with you because I want to.”_

Rey’s tears finally spilled over, darkening her lashes and trailing down her face. Maker, but it felt good to let it go. “But I ruin everything.” She whispered quietly. She could feel Ben pushing through the Bond, sensing her discomfort. As much as she wanted to run, to retreat, to hide away from the weight of everything, she didn’t resist him. Though she didn’t open the door, she didn’t slam it shut either. Her brokenness wasn’t a secret from him. He already knew.

“If you had never met me, Han would still be alive, and we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

Chewbacca made a soft noise and came to stand beside her, wrapping his furry arms around her in an unusually soft hug for the Wookiee.

 _“Han knew.”_ Chewbacca fell silent. He said nothing further, but he didn’t need to. Rey just buried her face in his fur and cried.

Moments passed slowly, with neither of them moving. Rey lost awareness of anything else in the room except for the comfort of the big furry alien and the trembling of her own chest. Her heart was shattered, and the fragments of it were scraping her ribs with each breath.

No matter how hard she tried to hold on to her found family, they slipped further from her grasp each day. Maz’s words rang in her ears – the belonging you seek is not behind you, but ahead. She had thought that belonging was with Han, but now he was gone. Then, perhaps with Luke, but she had managed to ruin that by withholding the truth. Even the Resistance was pushing her away, and the brush they would paint her with would rip Finn, Poe, and Rose from her as well. They would never understand.

But Chewbacca remained. And Leia.

And Ben.

The Wookiee _roor_ ’ed softly, which brought Rey back to awareness. She sniffed loudly and pulled back, wiping her face on her sleeve. His chest fur was damp and streaky, and Rey grimaced in embarrassment. “Sorry, Chewie.”

“ _Do not be. You will sleep now, and be comfortable, because it is what you need. Stay here. I am going to prepare a pack which I will leave on the island for you. Tomorrow will take care of itself.”_ He placed a giant paw on her head, an oddly comforting gesture. A soft grunt, and he exited the room.

Rey stumbled to a corner and sank to her knees, drawing them to her chest before laying fully on the floor. She curled up on her side like a cat. Rey was tired - a good cry always had that effect, and her energy level remained low after sleeping for so long. She couldn’t bring herself to steal Chewbacca’s hammock to sleep in, and she certainly wasn’t going to sleep in the main bunks. She supposed that there had been worse places to bed down than the floor of the Falcon. The scavenger girl inside her was screaming that she was letting her feelings get the better of her, a weakness she could ill afford. But tonight, Rey ignored Jakku.

She closed her eyes on the cold floor and breathed a shaky sigh. The stillness only held her for a moment before the soft pull of Ben stepping fully through the Bond tickled her senses. He had been lurking in the back of her mind - an oddly comforting ink-black shadow.

“There is a second bed in here.” Ben’s voice was gruff but held no harsh edges or disdain for the weakness she knew he had witnessed. She could feel a gloved hand on her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “I used to sleep there sometimes. Mostly when my parents fought, on the rare occasion my father was home long enough for them to do it in person. But, it’s going to land right on your head if I pull it out.”

Rey opened her eyes, looking straight into Ben’s dark brown gaze. His eyes were full of understanding and the weight of experience. This was a scenario Ben had most certainly dealt with before.

Rey nodded, not really trusting her voice, and carefully uncurled herself from the floor and stood. Ben was wearing his full Kylo Ren Supreme Leader regalia, sans the mask. It should have been intimidating under any other circumstance, but she almost felt comforted by the layers of thick, dark cloth. It was a barrier between Ben and the role he continued to play.

Upon seeing her boots, the man cracked a wan smile. “I remember those. I left them behind when I went with - well. You know.” He made a flippant gesture with his hand, but it obviously pained him to think of saying his uncle’s name out loud. “Of course, Chewbacca would have remembered them.”

Rey looked down and shrugged. “At least I’ll have something on my feet for my prison sentence.” Ah yes, petulance - always endearing.

“I think you need to explain.” Ben tapped a smooth section of the wall twice, and a small door slid open to reveal a handle. A gentle tug, and a murphy bed appeared from behind the wall. It was small, but it would serve better than the floor.

Rey sighed, something she seemed to be doing a lot of lately. “Not much to say. The report Leia carried back to the Resistance generals did not impress them. They consider me too much of a security risk, or they don’t believe you – or they simply don’t want to, and this is easier to deal with than believing they may be wrong about something. They’re leaving me alone on Ahch-To, under pain of having the Bond severed.”

Ben narrowed his eyes, leaning against the Wall. His expression was stoic, but Rey felt the same irrational panic stem from him at the thought of the loss of the Bond that had previously occupied her own belly. “They couldn’t break the Bond, even if they tried.”

“How do you know?”

“The only Force sensitive is my uncle.” A pregnant pause, where Ben’s gaze occupied the ceiling. “And he’d not be able to, by desire or design.”

“What makes you so sure?” Rey’s memory itched, like she was forgetting some relevant detail, but sussing it out was proving impossible.

“Reasons.” Ben was carefully schooling his features, his face more a mask now than the black thing he trapped himself in. Rey could feel him slowly narrowing their link, trying to be subtle and failing. He was desperately trying not to let on something, and despite knowing it was likely important Rey didn’t have the energy to chase it out of him.

Rey rolled her eyes and sat heavily on the side of the bed. “Glad to know my exile is such a non-issue for you.” _Keep your secrets, Ben Solo. They’ll out eventually._

Ben shrugged as well, as if it were all the same to him. Rey knew better, however. “You won’t be there long.”

“Physically, no. Chewie insists on coming to get me - well, as long as he isn’t stuck with me in the first place. They seem to be including him in their witch hunt. But I’ll be branded a traitor forever in the eyes of the Resistance.” Her stomach turned over again at the word traitor. She had been called many things, but never that.

“Truth outs.” Ben said, simply. “And the past is dead. Keep moving forward or you’ll be caught up in it.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, about a foot away from Rey. His arms dangled across his knees, gloved hands hanging down loosely. Dark eyes pierced through Rey’s soul. “Do you really consider yourself to be a traitor for speaking to me?” Hurt flashed across his features for a moment - just a moment, but it was enough.

Rey sighed hard. “No. The Force brought us together for a reason - I mean, look, we’ve already defeated the former Supreme Leader, who was without question quite the evil bastard. I don’t really understand why the Resistance is being so shortsighted. Can they not understand that you’re not only offering to be a double agent, but at the highest level in the First Order? Working with you - we’d have a real chance to make changes. Good changes. Bring down the tyranny the First Order wants to impose, throw a wrench into the cogs of their war machine. But they... they won’t look past _you_.”

“Peace at any cost, save by the hands of Kylo Ren?” Ben chuckled darkly. “I’ve given them no reason at all to trust me, I suppose.”

They sat in peace, Rey fiddling with her sleeve and Ben staring at the floor. The humming of the Falcon around them was the loudest sound in the room, followed only by their unmatched breathing and Rey’s occasional sniffle.

At length, Ben broke the silence. “Tell me, Rey. Do you believe in what the Resistance is doing? Not if you think that their goals have merit, but are they attainable with their current trajectory?”

Rey leaned back on the bed, bracing herself on her elbows and replaying the past year and a half in her mind. “I... I don’t think so. No. So far it seems that they’ve mostly just tried to survive. Another hit like one the First Order handed out yesterday and they would be all but gone. Not to mention how badly they’re botching this situation. They’re passing on the best double agent opportunity they’ll ever have. We’ve literally blown in their lap and they’re trying to throw us back to twist in the wind.”

“The Resistance has scored some hits of their own, but overall, the First Order could swat them out of the sky like a fly.” Ben narrowed his eyes, and Rey figured that he was thinking of the Star Destroyer that Poe had felled a few weeks ago. “Do you believe the Resistance can succeed at toppling the First Order and restoring the New Republic to its feet?”

A long pause, as Rey gathered her thoughts. A shaky breath. “No. Not as they stand today.”

“Is that your goal? The end of the First Order?”

Rey tugged an earlobe and thought. “I want the galaxy to be at peace. Where everyone is entitled to freedom. I grew up alone, captive to my stomach and the whims of Unkar Plutt, and surrounded by the detritus of war. Ships, transports... bodies. I hate it.” Rey whispered softly, her eyes filling with the wreckage of Jakku. “War is a waste. I stepped over the skeletons of soldiers - people - every day of my life. I picked their bones so I wouldn’t have to join them. Wasted lives. No one should have to die like that. I don’t want anyone else to have to live like I did, either. Not if I can help it.”

“ _Can_ you help it?” Ben was staring at her openly, his emotions unreadable but his eyes unclouded. Deep black hair crossed in front of his mangled left eye, and she had the inane impulse to brush it away.

Rey stared back, thinking of all they had accomplished so far, and in the short time they had done it. How the Force was changing in her, becoming more a part of her every day. She had felt things she could never have dreamed of back on Jakku. And the Force had connected her to Ben, her opposite in almost every way. They were only beginning to test their connected power. They were stronger together than they could ever be apart. Together, they would move mountains. She dared to hope that reordering the galaxy was within their grasp.

“Yes.” She said softly, looking down at her hands. “But not alone.” Her real meaning hung in the air between them, trapped between the two sets of lungs who were breathing it in. Rey would be lying if she didn’t feel a jolt in the pit of her stomach at the snapping of pride in the eyes of Ben Solo, or the strange sense of longing she felt through their Bond.

“Then the Resistance’s perception of you - your friend’s perception, too - is meaningless. Let your actions speak for themselves. They will either exonerate you or condemn you, and if you be condemned in their eyes after doing what you know is right, then you would never have been anything else.”

“Interesting advice coming from you.” Rey stated, though not unkindly. Ben still winced, and she regretted it immediately.

“It’s advice I ignored till it was too late.” Ben said simply, averting his eyes. “But it’s no less true.” His sense of shame became her own.

“I’m sorry, that was cruel of me.” And it had been.

He shrugged self-deprecatingly. “You’re not the monster here.”

“You aren’t either.”

“Sometimes the perceptions of others are accurate. My past actions and motivations were far from pure. I was driven by revenge, a desire for power, the wish to prove myself. That’s not your impetus.”

Silence fell. Once the rapport of the past few moments had slipped away, she felt as clumsy a newborn bantha. Rey stared at Ben through her tear-darkened lashes, studying his stooped shoulders and bowed head as she struggled with what to say next. Her stomach gave a lurch, as it always did, at the sight of the angry red line that trailed into the collar of his surcoat. The mark she’d made on him.

She felt another piece of her braid come loose to curl around the nape of her neck. The braid would likely have to come down soon - but perhaps she’d just let it fall out on its own.

“You were manipulated, Ben.” Rey said at length, longing to grasp his hand but refraining. “You told me, on the island one night. Do you remember? You told me that Snoke has been in your head since you were a child, twisting your mind and perverting your own perceptions of things. And he wouldn’t have had as much of a foothold if your parents hadn’t made the mistakes they did, it’s true. But he turned you down that path and lead you right to him. And now that he’s gone, you have a choice - and you’re choosing to right the wrongs that can be fixed. That’s not something a monster does.”

“It doesn’t take away what I’ve done. I’ve given orders that have taken lives, on both sides. I’ve tortured people. I’ve tortured _you_. I killed children. Rey, I murdered my father.” The last word was a strangled whisper, ragged and hoarse. Ben wouldn’t look at her. Instead, he studied the backs of his gloves.

“Lives are being lost in this war with or without your explicit command, Ben. All we can do is end it as quickly with as little bloodshed as possible. Find a way to raise doves, instead of hawks. The rest of it - you just have to find a way to make peace with it. Just know that even through all that, you still have people in your corner. Chewie wants you back more than anything. Even your uncle has been fighting for you. And you have not lost the love of your mother.” The words ‘ _or me’_ hovered on the tip of her tongue, but Rey let them fade back into her memory.

Ben recoiled as if she had slapped him, and Rey almost backed away before realizing that she felt no anger from him - only a deep and endless sadness, a sense of loss.

“I should have lost her. She should hate me for what I’ve done. I ruined her life many, many times over. I don’t - I can’t imagine how I’m ever going to face her again.” Ben’s voice was low and dark, raw with pain. He stared studiously at a spot on the floor, furiously blinking.

“That part is easy... you’ll face her with me. You are not alone, Ben Solo. I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it.” Rey reached her hand to his face, gently smoothing back the loose hair before his eye.

The naked gratitude on the scarred face of the man before her was a sight Rey hoped to never forget. In that moment, any lingering trace of Supreme Leader Kylo Ren evaporated, and only Ben Solo shone through. Lost, dirtied, broken - but being mended. Wonderful, _wonderful_.

A magnetized pull in the pit of her stomach made Rey want to scoot even closer to the man beside her. Heart rate accelerating, lips parted slightly, her breath coming through in airy whispers. The strange impulse to place her hands on his face and press her lips to his was overwhelming - only the fear of rejection kept her from doing so. Now wasn’t the time, her inner voice told her. There were a million reasons not to.

Ben held her gaze evenly, his emotions twining the air between them. Gratitude, sorrow, resolve, protectiveness - and something else. “Neither are you, Rey of Jakku. No matter what happens tomorrow, there is no corner of this galaxy where the Resistance could hide you from me. If you need me to come, I will be there. I will find you.”

The door began to slide open, sending the tensions of the moment scurrying away. Ben’s projection vanished like a puff of smoke. Rey startled, and nearly fell off the bed as Chewie’s furry head poked around the side of the door.

“ _I heard another voice and was worried.”_ Chewie roared, sounding confused. “ _You are alone?”_

“I am, Chewie. I’m alright.” Rey smiled shakily.

 _“Was that Little Ben?”_ Chewbacca lowed softly, his eyes growing sad.

 _It’s alright, Rey._ Ben’s voice whispered in her head. _Tell him._ There were volumes left unsaid in those few words, full of longing and regret.

“Yes.” Rey said simply, watching the Wookiee intently. “It was Ben.”

For a long moment, Chewbacca said nothing. It was hard to read the Wookiee’s expression under all that fur in the best of times, but it was practically impossible now. After a long pause, he growled softly in the back of his throat, and his great wooly shoulders slumped. “ _So much is lost. Such different times. I wish things came to a better end.”_

 _“_ Perhaps things will be different.” Rey said, twisting her hands in her lap.

“ _Perhaps_.” Said the Wookiee. “ _It has been a long time since Little Ben last needed the spare bunk. It is good to see he still remembers.”_ Without another word, Chewbacca turned back down the corridor, closing the door behind him.

Heartened somewhat, Rey lay back on the bunk and resumed counting the rivets on the ceiling. She felt a ripple of regret and conflict float through her consciousness - Ben’s emotions at the moment. He was trying hard to keep them from her, but it was fine. She wouldn’t push him. _I told you, Ben Solo. You are not alone._ She received no reply, but hadn’t expected one.

Despite the relatively early hour, Rey’s eyelids began to slide shut. She rolled onto her slide and blinked dozily. Sleep was coming for her, and even if she wanted to fight it she would lose. Might as well resign with grace. She was shrouded in warmth despite the cold of space, and sleep claimed her easily.

It wasn’t until the next morning that she would discover a blanket placed over her where none had been before, and her heavy boots removed and set neatly by the side of the bed. The events of the day quickly overshadowed her curiosity as to her benefactor, but the feeling of warmth remained with her until she joined the rest of her friends for breakfast.


	13. Chapter 13

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

“Rey!” Finn said loudly around a mouthful of porridge. “Where’d you disappear to last night?”

Rose waved gaily and made room for Rey near her own perch on the scuffed grey shipping container. “You missed me kicking Poe’s butt at dejarik. It was a massacre.” The glint in her eye was practically feral, and her voice was full of teasing joy. _Right_ , Rey thought. _Today we land and get answers. I should be happy about that. Or at least act it._

“It really was. She’s a menace. If the fight against the First Order were a game of dejarik, Rose Tico would slaughter them all single-handedly.” Poe’s words echoed off the bottom of his cup of caf. BB-8 whirred beside him, chortling and squeaking in his droid language. “I don’t need sass from you, my friend. Keep your opinions to yourself.” BB beeped indignantly at the scolding from Poe.

Chewie roared from inside the kitchen, asking Rey if she wanted anything to eat. For all his battles with the food synth, Chewie actually _liked_ to prepare the meals. Rey was happy to fix things for herself, but the last time she had set foot in the kitchen the Wookiee had chased her out.

“Just caf, thanks!” Rey called back, hopping up to join Rose on the crate.

“I am never going to be able to understand him.” Rose shook her head slowly. “I think I can understand the noises engines make better than what poor Chewbacca says!”

Finn laughed. “That’s what I said - Wookiee sounds like engine noises.” His eyes suddenly grew wide. “Rey! Rey Rey Rey. You said you could speak it. Do it! Please say something in Wookiee.”

Rose’s eyes grew wide as saucers. “I am going to need to hear this. Immediately. I mean, can you get any more magical?” She balled up her fists and placed them under her chin, leaning forward with her elbows on the table.

 _You have no idea_. Rey chuckled mentally. _I have the Supreme Leader of the First Order in my head._ _He hears my thoughts. Did you know he killed Snoke for me? Yeah, that’s happened_. Ben’s consciousness stirred slightly at the callout but was still mostly cloaked in the pleasant blankness that came from sleep. Their respective ships time cycles were slightly off from one another – Rey surmised it was still the small hours of the morning for Ben.

Externally, Rey rolled her eyes with good humor. “It’s not Wookiee, it’s Shyriiwook. And no, I’m not saying anything, I’m horrible at it. I can understand Shyriiwook, Chewie understands Basic, we get along just fine with that.”

Poe set his cup down and stared at Rey with mock seriousness. “You can’t just say something like ‘I can growl like a Wookiee’ and just not follow through with it young lady.” He waggled a finger at her. “So, ante up.”

Chewbacca chuckled from the kitchen. “You’re no help!” Rey called out to him, plopping her elbows on the table and catching her face in the palm of her hands.

 _Now this I need. This is worth being woken up at two in the morning for._ Ben’s voice was thick with sleep, and bright with uncharacteristic mirth. Rey reflected that it was entirely possible he was not fully awake. _I did not know you could —_

 _“_ Fine, fine!” Rey shouted, putting her hands up in the air. “You win. All of you. I’ll do it.”

Clapping and cheering from the rebels, and dark chuckle from the man inside her mind.

“Are you listening Chewie?” Rey ran a hand over her braid, which was more of a rat’s nest now than anything else. She’d have to find a mirror later. The Wookiee roared affirmatively from the kitchen and stuck his furry head through the small pass-through. Between his paws and head, he filled the entire space.

 _“Me want caf no food.”_ Rey roared - badly. She couldn’t think of anything else to say, really, and her knowledge of pronunciations and syntax was lacking, to say the least. The noises resembled that of a small cat getting its tail stepped on.

Chewbacca put a paw over his face and barked his strange growling chuckle. Rose giggled so much she nearly dropped her own mug to the tabletop. “That was definitely bad!” She choked out between bouts of laughter.

Poe slow clapped in an exaggerated manner, nodding his head sarcastically. Finn was roaring with laughter. And above all else, the rusty, disused laugh of Ben Solo rang in her head.

 _Completely worth being woken up for._ He chuckled drowsily, a warm and deep sound that reverberated in Rey’s bones. She found that she quite liked his laugh. She especially liked the things it did to her stomach, and the tingles it caused in her toes.

“I told you it was bad.” Rey grumbled and sank back against the crate behind her, red-faced and trying to suppress her own smile but failing. Despite her embarrassment, Rey tried to commit every line and detail of her friend’s happy faces to memory. _Remember me this way_ , she pleaded. _Not the way they are going to paint me later today._

For now, she still belonged. _The belonging you seek is not behind you, but ahead._ Maz’s words again. She had taken it to mean that her place was with the Resistance - but perhaps she had interpreted it wrong. Whatever it meant - it was still clear that there was nothing left for her on Jakku. Her parents - or whoever left her - either couldn’t or wouldn’t return for her. She had nothing. She was still Rey-from-Nowhere. The dull ache in her chest blossomed into a fresh spark of pain, stealing the last scraps of her joy.

Ben’s voice floated in quietly _. You are not nothing. Not to me._ He paused, as if embarrassed or searching for words, but continued in a different track _. I’m going back to bed. Wake me again when you land. You won’t be alone._ He sank back into the smoothness of sleep, only the faint pressure of his aura letting Rey know their connection remained open.

Rey barely had time to register what he could have possibly meant by that before Finn’s voice broke into her reverie and yanked her out of her own head.

“You’re a good sport, Rey.” Finn said admiringly, reaching around Rose’s back to pat Rey’s upper arm. “You’re good people.”

Rose smiled at her brightly before returning to her breakfast. Rey grinned back and let the fire of her imminent betrayal simmer in her belly. Poe resumed munching on his toast. Rose leaned against Finn as she nicked a bite of his food. He pretended to be angry, but there was nothing but good humor behind his eyes. A roar spilled out of the kitchen as Chewie applied some percussive maintenance to the food synth, which sent BB-8 scuttling away in fear. Their breakfast was warm, and cozy. It was exactly how a morning spent with friends should feel. There was no war here - no alliances, no secret pacts. No traitors or spies or secret mystical Forces that controlled destiny. Just four humans, a Wookiee, and a droid.

Chewie padded out the kitchen, continuing to grumble about the food synth. He was carrying two steaming mugs of caf, and Rey accepted hers from him with a shaky smile. It was nearly blond with cream, and Rey’s anemic grin turned into a genuine one as she took a large sip. She had never gotten a taste for caf before she discovered that you could put _things_ into it, like sweetener and cream. She had hated the beverage as it was served on Jakku - overly strong, midnight black, and contained in small shotglasses where the grounds collected in the bottom. For the richer traders, it was universal - they all drank black caf in the mornings, and home-stilled booze in the evenings. They had the luxury of easily-accessible water, unlike Rey and her fellow scavengers. She would have never used her precious reserves on such as that.

Chewie always remembered. He never brought it to her black. She smiled at the Wookiee, who nodded back in response. He roared something about checking the landing cycle and pulling them out of hyperspace, before exiting the kitchen for the cockpit still carrying his own mug. Rey drank her caf in silence, listening to the happy chatter around her and wishing she could freeze time.

———

A short hour later, Rey could hear the landing cycle warm up. She was standing in Chewie’s room again, having availed herself of the ‘fresher and taken a quick - and _cold_ , Maker love this bucket of bolts - shower. She had taken down the last traces of the braid from her hair and was studying herself in the small mirror trying to decide what to do with the mousey brown mess. Without a proper comb, there wasn’t too much she _could_ do. And her hair skills were... sadly lacking. Survival over good hair.

So, with a huff, Rey made a part as best she could with her fingers and twisted her damp hair back into a low bun. It was ugly, but out of her face. She secured the mess with a tie and looked down at the small pin that had been used to hold her former braid in place. With a soft sigh, she stretched open the small pocket inside her tunic and slipped it in. She wouldn’t have need of it anytime soon, but she couldn’t bear to leave the reminder of Leia behind.

Rey stepped out of Chewie’s room just as the Falcon touched down. The jolt of the landing sent a matching shock through the pit of her stomach, and she steadied herself against the bulkhead. Poe and Finn’s heavy footfalls sounded around the corner, with BB-8s roll and Rose’s light steps not far behind. She couldn’t hear Chewie.

 _Ben_? She reached out tentatively. _We’ve landed at Ahch-to._ She tried not to let her fear show in her voice, but it quavered even to her ears. She could feel him stirring, still shrouded in sleep.

 _Rey_. He said muzzily, his internal voice thick with slumber. _I’m here._

Rey sent her thankfulness to him in a wave before steeling herself and crossing the last few steps to the landing ramp. Before she could set foot down it, Chewie grabbed her arm and tugged her off to the side. The rest of the humans clomped down the ramp and were apparently greeted by the same porg emissary that Rey herself had met the last time. Rose’s squeak of delight could be heard halfway through the Falcon.

“ _I’ve hidden a pack with some supplies for you. By the cliff side, near the old camp. I used a cargo drop. It may have rolled. I landed further away than last time.”_

Rey smiled up at the Wookiee’s brown face, patting his upper arm affectionally. “Thank you, Chewie. For everything. You just - you can’t - I don’t... oh, I’m no good at this. You took care of me. No one’s ever really... done that.” She grew serious, her fair features clouding over.

She didn’t need to hear Ben’s words to know what he was saying in her mind. _Not alone. Never again._ Affection for both her Wookiee friend and her bondmate rose in her chest - and she allowed herself to feel it.

Chewbacca soundlessly pulled Rey into a tight hug. She let the breath be squished from her without complaint and held on as tight as her human arms could manage. The slightly musky scent of Wookiee mixed with caf and sea-breeze hung in the air. The moment stood still, and Rey found herself reluctant to break away.

A gentle prod from Ben stirred her to movement. _Rey. Something’s happening._ Rey turned her attention to the outside, where raised voices were arguing with increased vigor. Master Luke’s grizzly voice rang out above them all. She sighed - it was time to face the music.

She released Chewbacca, giving him one final squeeze before turning and practically fleeing down the gangway to the green grass outside without making eye contact. If she looked at him again, she would lose her resolve.

The Wookiee stood in the hallway, watching her leave. He remembered the shadows of Ben Solo, and his father, and his mother, walking out of the Falcon in the same manner. Sometimes running, sometimes walking, often together but equally separated. He remembered everything. As he made his own ambling way out of the ship, he stooped to pull back a floor panel. Something he may need was inside.


	14. Chapter 14

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

As soon as Rey’s boots hit the grass, she found herself in the middle of a severely disorganized fracas. A cluster of unhappy looking men had formed a large semi-circle around the bottom of the landing ramp - it was a motley group, with outfits ranging from pilots and mechanics to the finer robes of former senators and their like. Rey supposed some of them were the Council. They all looked unhappy.

Luke was shouting something in the general direction of his sister. His metal hand remained ungloved, and he had thrown back the hood of his dark brown robe to reveal his shaggy grey hair. Leia, standing a few feet from him, gestured wildly, her deep blue robes swishing as punctuation for her statements.

Rose stood off to the side, holding a porg like her life depended on it and looking confused and no small bit terrified. Finn was actually physically holding Poe back as he raged at a tall, thin woman with lilac-colored hair. _Holdo_. Ben whispered to her. She didn’t ask how he knew that - the Force or First Order reconnaissance, it didn’t matter. This was the woman who didn’t believe her. Didn’t believe Ben deserved a second chance. Righteous anger rose up in her, not for herself but for Ben. She could feel the man’s surprise at her thought pattern.

 _The Resistance pretends to be the champions of justice and morality in the galaxy, but they won’t recognize when someone’s trying to redeem themselves?_ Rey ranted hotly, and in response Ben’s presence wrapped itself around her mind like armor. Her mind felt stronger, like shoring her up for what was to come. _Showtime_. Ben whispered to her. _Chin up. Shoulders back. Be strong in your convictions._ She got the distinct impression that this was something he often told himself - as Kylo Ren.

Rey skid to a halt as all the voices ceased. Chewbacca exited close behind her and roared - no words, just anger. The bow caster was strapped to his bandolier, glinting in the planet’s afternoon sun. The Wookiee was spoiling for a fight.

Poe dropped his finger from Holdo’s face and shook Finn’s grip from his biceps while raising his hands in the air. He looked at her with relief written plainly across his features. “Rey. Thank goodness. Tell this woman she’s making a mistake - there’s no way you’ve been conspiring with the First Order. Maker, you’ve been in a gorram Force coma or with Master Luke any time you haven’t been with us. There hasn’t even been a chance.” Poe’s eyes were so full of his earnest conviction, it actually hurt.

Rey sighed, and despite Ben’s advice she let her shoulders slump. “That’s... not entirely true, Poe.” Rey said softly. “There’s been plenty of chance for it. But I am no traitor. I want this war to end. I want peace for the galaxy.”

“Then... you admit to being in communication with Kylo Ren.” The purple-haired woman purred, stepping forward toward Rey.

“I have been in communication with Ben Solo.” Rey said firmly, lifting her chin and staring the woman in the eyes. She could sense Master Luke stepping towards her, one of Leia’s hands gripping his forearm lightly.

Before she could react, two of the men nearest to her grabbed her upper arms roughly and forced her to her knees. Mud seeped through her thin leggings, and a rock dug into her left knee. Her hands were thrust behind her back and shoved roughly into binders.

The harsh grip of the two men didn’t relax one bit for her restraints, and Ben growled in her head, thrumming with barely controlled anger. _I’m fine_ , she tried to reassure him.

 _I’m coming, Rey. I'm getting in my shuttle right now and coming for you. This was stupid, as soon as I knew where you were going, I should have left too, I’m so fucking stupid - useless, I can’t help you from here, Rey!_ Rey sent waves of comfort to him, despite the fear she felt herself.

_Stay. Don’t come. Don’t put yourself in danger. You’re the Supreme Leader of the First Order. You can’t just up sticks and leave whenever it pleases you. Stay. It’s going to take you the same two days to get here that it took us. Stay._

“Kylo Ren, Ben Solo - one and the same.” Holdo said smoothly, sauntering over and meeting Rey’s gaze with her steel-backed one. “Do you deny that you’ve initiated a Force Bond with this Sith Lord?”

“I deny that it was _initiated_ by either of us. The Force willed it. You know this from General Organa’s report, why bother asking me now?” She could practically feel Finn and Poe back away from her in shock. The ties that bound them were breaking.

“She’s telling the truth.” Luke said lowly, shaking off Leia’s hand gently to step forward towards Holdo.

Holdo ignored her question and Luke’s reply, pressing on doggedly. “Have you used the Bond to communicate about Resistance matters?”

“Yes. Ben warned us of the impending attack through the Bond, which you well know, because according to reports from my friends, the alarm was raised prior to the actual attack beginning.”

“We received the warning mere minutes before our ships were attacked. Many, many lives were lost. An attack on this scale is not a last-minute plan. Why didn’t he pass along a warning sooner?”

“The Bond was... damaged. Locked. He couldn’t even get through to me until then. He warned me as soon as he could.” Ben was silent, but with every passing moment she could feeling his anger building.

“Locked due to what?” Holdo crossed her arms and sneered at Rey.

“I’m -” Rey opened her mouth to respond, but Luke stepped between her and Holdo. He was radiating fury - and fear.

“It was damaged due to the prolonged exposure to Force energy she had no way of controlling as she and B - my nephew _destroyed_ Snoke.” He growled, keeping Rey well to his back. His stance was protective.

“I wasn’t asking you, Skywalker. I want to hear it from the girl.” Holdo snarled nastily, taking a step towards Rey again. Luke took a step forward as well, till they were almost nose to nose.

“As a Master, I have a right to speak for my Padawan.” His words were steel cloaked in velvet.

Both Rey and Ben registered surprise at that statement. Neither were sure to whom he was referring. In truth, Ben had been the only padawan Luke had formally taken on.

Holdo stared icily at the Jedi, but ultimately acquiesced. With a sarcastic tilt of her head, she backed off a pace. “As you wish, Master Luke.” Vitriol dripped from her words. “Would you care to tell me if the fallen Jedi is listening to this conversation? Or perhaps I should ask Rey that question instead.”

Luke turned to Rey, and she could hear a whisper of him in her head. _Even if he is, don’t tell her. Rey, she wants to -_

 _“_ He’s heard every word.” Rey spat viciously. Luke seemed to cringe almost imperceptibly at her brashness. Leia’s face grew pale and slack, and she looked for a moment as if she would stumble. Rey couldn’t see the expressions of her friends, but she was sure they were not favorable.

“Then I see no reason to continue this line of questioning - Council, the girl has _admitted_ to treason. She is a traitor. As such, her punishment should fit the crime and I call for her execution.”

The group exploded. Rey was gratified to see that Finn and Poe, despite their shock at the circumstances, were rounding on Holdo with anger in their fists and the lines of their shoulders. Chewie roared and moved to stand closer to her right side, his bowcaster still safely on his back. _Good_ , thought Rey. _Don’t give them a reason to go after you, Chewie. Stay. I’m alright. Please_. Those who couldn’t understand him were almost nearly on edge around the giant alien - Wookiees did have a reputation for ripping people’s arms out of their sockets.

Leia’s eyes burned with rage, and the air around Master Luke snapped with electricity. Outwardly, he was calm, never breaking eye contact with the purple-haired general. However, anyone who knew Luke knew that was a dangerous place to be.

“Did she not admit to killing the Supreme Leader with this Ben Solo? We have heard reports of his demise and Kylo Ren’s instatement in his place. How is that a traitorous act?” An older gentleman in red robes stepped forward but was quickly drowned out by the din of voices around him.

“What happened to the idea of severing her Bond? I see no reason for the girl to die.”

“Make an example of her. She’s scum who consorts with scum. A filthy girl who has no place here.”

“If we kill her in cold blood without a fair hearing, how are we better than the First Order?”

“We’re barely surviving, and if her death means we have no more leaks for the First Order to take advantage of, I’m all in favor.”

Rey held herself as still as a stone while the angry voices of the crowd roared in her ears. She was mostly trying to scout escape routes. She may not have her lightsaber, but she’d be damned if she went down without a fight.

Ben Solo paced in her head, emanating rage and a healthy dose of fear, all the while trying to keep her aware of her surroundings. _How are you so calm, scavenger girl?_

_Do you really think this is the first time I’ve been trapped with people who wanted to kill me? It’s not even the third._

A thunderclap split the air, and all eyes turned to Luke Skywalker, who looked more like the Jedi of legend in that moment than he had in twenty years. Full of righteous anger; fury and fear. “If you harm Rey, I’ll never go with you. I will join myself with the Force before I will ever set foot on a Resistance ship. Your grand plan to win the systems to your side will fail without me, and you know it.” He stood between Rey and Holdo again, but was looking only at the girl from Jakku.

 _I won’t fail you._ He echoed back in her head. A strange resonance hung around his sentence - as if he was speaking to two separate people.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Holdo scoffed. “The great Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, commit himself forever to the Force? You could never be such a coward as to leave your sister and your student. Nor the galaxy. You’ve far too much pride.”

“Don’t presume to understand me, Holdo. I would become more powerful than you could possibly imagine. Don’t test a man who has nothing left to lose.” Luke said softly. “ _I_ lost Ben Solo -” he paused, choking on a name he hadn’t allowed himself to say in fifteen years, “ - Ben Solo, My own _nephew_ , has gone to the darkness because of my arrogance and poor judgment. I created Kylo Ren just as much as Snoke did. And I will be damned if I lose anyone else to the Dark when I can stop it. What Rey and Ben share is nearly unique. I’ve scoured holochrons and records and have only found a few examples of a spontaneous Force Bond, and none of one of this strength. The Force wants Ben and Rey together. I will not be the one to tear them apart. I’m not even sure I can. I cannot break their Bond by any means I have found. And even if I had, I wouldn’t.”

“Then you leave death as her only option, Skywalker.” Holdo said, holding her hands aloft.

“No.” Said Leia firmly, breaking her silence and stepping forward to stand beside Holdo, coming only to the shoulder of the tall woman. “You’re truly determined to make a scapegoat of this girl, who has done nothing wrong -”

“You’re already treading dangerous waters keeping the fact that your own son is _Kylo Ren_ from us, Leia Organa. Don’t push your luck.” Holdo snarled, the wind whipping her purple hair about her face and lending a crazed look to the already feral glinting in her eyes.

Leia bristled and squared herself for a fight, descending from dignified General and Senator to the scrappy warrior-princess she had once been. Before she could open her mouth, a crack of energy split the air.

A bright blur sparked out from a blaster, streaking through the air to bury itself in Rey’s shoulder. Rey cried out and twisted to the ground, unable to do anything else. _Maker_ it burned, and it _ached_. Her mind was aflame with pain and swirling with the blood-fueled rage of Kylo Ren. Red streaks ran through her vision, and Ben’s comforting presence turned to inky black.

The crowd dissolved into panic - someone Rey couldn’t recognize was trying to restrain the shooter, while others scrambled to safety.

 _I’ll murder them all._ Ben was incandescent with rage. She could practically feel him throwing himself into the cockpit of his command shuttle, electricity crackling around him and his fingers twitching around his saber.

 _Ben, stop!_ Rey screamed, trying to pull him back before he did something he would regret. _I’m fine, Ben, I’m fine, please -_

Luke was on the ground next to her, pushing away the two men who had been holding her with the Force. He was hauling her upright, and Rey could hear his intent to run thrumming in the Force. Leia was struggling towards her as well, but was held fast about the wrists by Holdo, who was shouting something incomprehensible over her shoulder towards the riotous ring of her supporters. Chaos reigned.

To her left she heard Chewbacca’s savage roar, and the clicking of his bandolier as he unslung the bowcaster. “Chewie, no!” She cried out in pain, twisting around to face him and digging her injured shoulder into the mud as she struggled to see the Wookiee. Luke’s hands were under her arms, he hauled her back to her knees even as she threatened to throw them both into the mud. She couldn’t leave with Luke – not if Chewie was in danger. She twisted towards her friend - her protector. “Chewie, stop, _please,_ it won’t help!”

Dimly, she could hear Leia and Luke’s voices joining hers, but it was too late. Chewbacca had fired a bolt towards the man who was still stubbornly holding his blaster aloft and taking aim again. The figure who had lunged for him after he had fired his first shot was laying on the ground, unconscious or worse. The human was shouting something that was incomprehensible to Rey’s ears, a crazed glint sparkling in his black eyes.

Chewie’s shot rang true - it was an intentional miss, only singeing the radical’s gun arm. Chewie was deadly accurate with a bowcaster - if he had wanted the man dead, he would be.

The shooter cried out in pain and stubbornly took aim again. Chewbacca roared and raised the ‘caster again, stepping forward in front of Rey. She lost sight of the man who tried to kill her.

Instead she felt the ground shaking before her as Chewbacca fell to his knees, a blaster wound burning in the dark fur of his chest.

All time froze. Rey was dimly aware of Leia breaking free of Holdo’s grasp and rushing toward them, but her footfalls came in slow motion. Luke had released her arms and was running towards the man who had pulled his blaster. There was a dangerous amount of rage rolling off the aging Jedi. Her blue lightsaber - or was it Master Luke’s? - crackled to life and the crowd around the impetuous shooter scattered.

Ben _burned_.

Rey gathered herself, focusing her energy on the binders that still circled her wrists. Her bondmate caught onto her intentions immediately and added his power to hers in a flood. The metal twisted and fell away almost immediately, and Rey was on her feet and running the few steps to her fallen friend. Her heartbeat joined with Ben’s, a staccato chorus of _no no no no no no no_ that begged to be answered.

The Wookiee was still and silent, having slumped from his knees to fall on the ground completely. Catching his huge shoulders, Leia was dragging him to lay flat. Rey slid to her knees, ignoring the tears in her skin as rocks dug through the thin fabric of her leggings. The wound in her left shoulder screamed, but her focus remained on assessing the damage. Ben’s power thrummed in her ears.

Knowing nothing of Wookiee anatomy, Rey had no idea what the bolt had damaged. All she knew was there was _blood_ , and it was coming from her _friend_ , but she could stop it. She raised her hand over the gaping hole, trying to hold onto the shreds of Force that her tattered control allowed her to grasp. She concentrated all her own power and love for the Wookiee into her fingertips, trying to call the blue fire that had saved his precious Little Ben.

Instead, the Wookiee’s large paw caught her hand and placed it against the whole side of his chest. His large paws unlocked the ever-present bandolier. “ _Debt... is ended.”_ He growled softly, closing Rey’s hand around the cool metal of the bandolier and pushing it toward her. “ _Life for a life._ ”

 _“_ Absolutely not. I refuse. Your debt is in full affect, Chewbacca, because you are not dying here today on this _stupid_ planet for a _kriffing_ stupid reason like this. Not if I can help it. _” And I can help it._

The Wookiee chuckled softly, and pulled his paw back from Rey’s hand, leaving the bandolier with her. “ _Saved... you. Save Little Ben. Not... stupid, Sunbeam.”_ His brown eyes slid shut, and Rey keened, Ben’s inarticulate rage a rough echo in her voice.

With her left hand gripping the bandolier tightly even as the pressure of it sent shockwaves through her injured shoulder, she held her right hand over the wound, closing her eyes and focusing as hard as she ever had in her entire life. The Force tingled and skipped along the ridges of her fingertips, but she couldn’t hold it still. Her control was giving way to hysteria as her friend’s life fled.

Behind her eyes, she heard a soft voice whispering to her, one she had never expected to hear again. Full of warmth and the promise of belonging. _Kid, concentrate._

 _Han?_ But of course, he didn’t answer Rey’s soft plea for a reply.

Blue fire flared and flickered out again, guttering as if a breeze blew it out.

 _Ben, help me. I can’t hold it. Please Ben!_ Rey felt nothing but panic, but Han’s voice had only steeled Ben’s resolve. She felt his power quicken in hers, felt his arm settle beside her own as she stretched it out. Felt his hand grip her waist and snug her beside him, his hair brushing her cheek as he covered her exposed flank with his body. They crouched together in the mud, pandemonium reigning around them. Their power twined together, and strong, steady sparks of blue shot from both of their fingertips as their grip on the Force solidified.

They couldn’t hear the gasps of awe amid the panic as the spectacle unfolded, three bodies bathed in an otherworldly blue glow. They couldn’t hear Leia calling for Ben first, then Luke. They didn’t hear another blaster fire and a body slump to the muddy ground, or the crackle of a lightsaber as it was extinguished.

They heard a heartbeat in their ears, the drumming of a life they wouldn’t allow to be extinguished. Friend, Uncle, father-figure.

After what felt like an eternity, Rey dropped her hand and sucked in a great gasp of air. She felt the comfort of her bondmate dissipate as the world turned on its side, and green grass replaced blue sky in her vision. She closed her eyes with a heartbeat steady in her ears, and the Force purring through her veins, singing in its triumph.


	15. Chapter 15

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Kylo gasped back to awareness in the cockpit of his command shuttle, limbs shaking. He was covered in sweat and rocked to the core by what he had witnessed. What he had done. He looked down at his ungloved hands as if they may suddenly strangle him of their own accord. Rey’s blue light...

 _Rey... Chewbacca._ He felt for the Bond, only to reach the soft blackness of Rey’s sleep. _Rey. Rey_!

Nothing. She was alive - but unable to respond to him. Another wait for answers, then.

Typical. They really needed to figure this Bond shit out. Blacking out after every major use was not going to be an option for much longer. He ran a hand over his face and sighed in frustration. But, the typical rage that would have accompanied his vexation never came. It was as if the impulse for destruction had already been sated.

However, someone was banging on the hatch insistently and it was rather giving him a headache.

He panted once, twice, and hauled himself to his feet. His helmet and gloves were in the floor before him, and he jammed them on without a thought. Stalking to the door and gathering the posture and mannerism of the Supreme Leader to him, Kylo slammed open the door control and glowered at whatever unfortunate individual was disturbing him.

Of course - it had to be Hux.

“Ren - you’ve been in here for the last hour, are you actually planning on leaving? Don’t let me stop you, by any means, but it would be prudent to file a flight plan or give some sort of indication where you’ll be jaunting off to before you leave the First Order leaderless.”

_This man has absolutely no idea how lucky he is to still be sucking air. Or... maybe he does have a deathwish. Maybe the weight of being such a fucking asshole has gotten to be too much for him and he’s just begging me to end his miserable existence._

Kylo suddenly wished he hadn’t replaced his mask so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. Instead, he grit his teeth together and ground out, “I was not aware that it fell to you to be my babysitter, Armitage. Tell me, how did it work between you and Snoke? How far in advance did you require him to notify you of his travel plans?”

While Hux spluttered for an answer, Kylo shouldered past him roughly and stalked through the shuttle bay, causing at least two squadrons of troopers to snap to attention out of fear. That, at least, would never get old.

_The irksome cretin is following me. Of course he is._

Hux scurried behind him like a beetle, squeezing into the lift alongside Kylo and tapping furiously at his datapad. “I wasn’t done with you.” He whined peevishly, turning the datapad around. “I need you to sign here, here - and here.”

Kylo crossed his arms. “What’s this for?” It paid to read things through, but he was out of patience for this already and it was barely 0530.

Hux sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’ve already sent these to you twice. First one is for your wall repair completion. Second one is for the promotion of three captains who showed extreme promise during the last altercation with the Resistance. And the third is for recalling the Knights of Ren.”

The Knights! _Fuck_ , how did he manage to forget about them? _“_ I’ll sign the first two. Leave the Knights to me.”

Hux opened his mouth to protest but seemed to think better of it. “As you wish.” He thrust the datapad under Kylo’s mask impertinently.

Kylo fished his stylus from his pocket and scribbled a signature on the first two spaces. “Have all information about the current location and assignments for the Knights sent to my terminal for my review. I will determine what their next direction should be.”

He couldn’t have them come back. Not yet. They were sure to sniff out that he wasn’t exactly in the same condition they left him in. His sharp edges were filed down, his teeth no longer bared at the slightest offense. He no longer reveled in Darkness and celebrated the deaths he caused. He was _different_ now. At least - he wanted to be.

Signatures affixed in the proper locations, Hux scuttled out of the lift toward the bridge, happy that yet more bureaucracy had been accomplished. Kylo watched him leave with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was slowly coming to the realization that his grand plans for reforming the galaxy were likely going to have to include Hux. The man had a talent for the mundane that completely escaped Kylo. Just had a find a way to curb his murderous urges...

The lift dinged and opened at Kylo’s quarters, and he filed the problem of Hux away for another time. The keypad beeped gently as it accepted his access code, and as soon as his boots crossed the threshold the mask was off. He sat down hard in the chair by his personal terminal while removing his gloves, and then with a snort he removed his surcoat and boots, too. His coat and gloves landed on the bed. He was in his own quarters, after all. Hux couldn’t just stride in here. He could be comfortable.

Clad only in his pants and soft tunic, Kylo turned again to the computer terminal. Perhaps it was time to start thinking through this plan with a bit more... permanence in mind. Clicking the terminal on, he watched the Aurebesh characters fill the screen as it ran through its warmup cycle. But before it had even completely finished, Kylo was out of the chair and digging for something under his bed.

_Probably should not put a document titled “Plans to Change Galaxy” on the main server. Might raise some questions._

After a moment he emerged, holding a sheaf of brownish paper and a small box that rattled when it moved. Hardly anyone handwrote anything these days. But Ben Solo had.

Kylo sat on the floor with his back braced against the bed and placed the paper to his left side. The little box sat on his lap, full of memories. A solitary child, neglected by his family and shunned by friends, had owned these pens and ink bottles. Had found solace in them. Kylo had thought that boy was long gone - but he kept getting glimpses.

Kylo opened the lid slowly, half expecting the contents to leap out and shout at him, but the pens and bottles held no such animation. They laid in the bottom of the box innocently, clinking together softly as he shifted his legs. There were no whispers accusing him of murder. They were only relics of the boy he had been.

His long fingers found a well-worn pen and a bottle of black ink which had somehow retained its seal over the years since it was last touched. The ink still sloshed about inside, leaving streaks of black on the glass as he held it up to the light for inspection. It was almost a shame to crack open the wax and expose it to the elements - it had survived so far.

But, ink in a jar was useless. Ink on paper meant something. Had a purpose.

So, Kylo Ren gently unsealed the small bottle and grabbed the stack of parchment to his left. He dipped the pen in the well, his fingers settling into the worn areas around the barrel as he turned it about in his hand. With a few decisive but somewhat wobbly downward strokes, the word _Plans_ appeared at the top of the page. Kylo frowned at the slightly squiggly letters, the straight lines of his Aurebesh characters somewhat blurry as they bled from his out of practice hand. He remembered that Ben Solo had been quite good at this, once upon a time.

He kept writing, and with each swish of the soft tip on the paper the lines became straighter, more uniform. Ordered. He felt focused and calm, all the jumbled words in his brain and half-formed thoughts begging for his attention now had space on the yellowed paper, and he felt _better_.

_How to conquer the galaxy without bloodshed: step one. Make them want to join you. Step two. ?_

_Goals for Galactic Reform: no slavery. No hunger. Social programs? Will require taxation. Mandatory military service when of age? Cultivate pride in government. Pride in selves. Start with youth - highly promote education. Start schools? Knowledge is freedom and power. Senate? Choice or only the illusion of it? Need good image of First Order. Name change? Blame Snoke for Hosnia? How much is known. True public perceptions of First Order? Need public relations lackey. Do I have one already? Need Rey._

_How to keep Rey safe: ~~find her and destroy anyone in your path.~~ without murdering half the Resistance ~~find her and keep her locked in your room forever~~ being a creep ~~find her and bring her on as an advisor~~ raising suspicions of the First Order ???_

_How to get Hux to stop being such a prick: start lacing his tea with stress tabs? ~~Find him a girlfriend. boyfriend~~ Give him what he wants? What does he want?_

_Knights of Ren - how to keep them busy but still useful to me without making them - or the First Order - suspicious? Recon missions to Outer Rim territories? Deep cover operations? Need to locate them first. Waiting on further data from Hux. Can any of them be trusted with this new plan?_

_How to apologize to your mother. ?????_

After some time, when no more thoughts trickled from his head to his pen, Kylo set the paper aside to dry. He had written about a sheet and a half, and his hand was cramped - unaccustomed to being forced into the writing position - and covered in smears of black ink. Taking care not to spill his bottle or leave smudges of ink, Kylo and carefully packed up the small box and replaced it under the bed.

The dark words on the paper seemed like a treasonous beacon, and Kylo was struck with the irrational urge to hide it. Or burn it. Or something.

But that was a useless impulse. No one had access to his rooms except for him. He had personally dismantled the cameras in the room in a week of hellish paranoia years ago. His private cleaning droid, who answered only to him, was asleep in a closet in his quarters when not in use. There was no one who would ever see these. _Don’t be ridiculous, Kylo._

With a sigh and an eye roll at his own neurosis, he fished a roll of medical tape from his bedside drawer and taped the two pieces of parchment to the mirror in his ‘fresher, one above the other. _There. A reminder. Something to work for._

The words no longer buzzing in his brain, Kylo’s thoughts returned to the dangerous subject of Rey _. I need to show her this. I need her here. I really need to start thinking about how exactly to get this in gear - I’m sure we’re going to be gearing up for another attack on the Resistance soon and that won’t garner us any points in our favor._

A rock settled in the pit of his stomach - the last time Rey had attempted healing through the Force like she had used on Chewbacca, it had knocked her out for a week. But, then again, that was also post-torture-by-lightening. Maybe this time it would be different.

He could only hope.

 _Rey?_ He prodded the Bond again, willing her to respond. _Please_.

Still silence.

Kylo flopped back on the bed, his head on the pillow and the soft light from his computer terminal the only source of illumination in his dark room. He stared at the ceiling, arms folded behind his head, and began to count rivets as he tried to think of something, _anything_ , other than being unable to talk to Rey.

 _Breakfast is still being served - maybe I should order something. Toast and caf?_ _Interesting that the Supremacy’s time cycle is so far off from Rey’s. It must be early afternoon for her - never mind. Maybe if I win Hux over to my side maybe he’ll have a better idea how to make some positive changes. Is he really that much of an asshole or does he just hate me personally? How much is the man and how much is a show? Maybe Rey could - Fuck it, I do want caf and toast. I’ll send a droid for it._

Kylo rolled over with an annoyed growl and grabbed his datapad, tapping out his order with sharp stabs of his long finger. Caf with cream. And toast. No - a muffin. Because fuck it, the Supreme Leader _liked_ baked goods. And he was going to start enjoying life again, dammit. Apparently, that begins with carbohydrates.

Kylo poked the Bond again, but to no avail. He rolled onto his back again and sighed, his breath puffing away a piece of hair that had fallen over his face. He resumed counting the rivets to occupy time before his first meeting of the day, and his restless thoughts strayed again and again to Rey, to Chewbacca, to his mother and a windswept island on the edge of the galaxy.


	16. Chapter 16

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

_Kriff, am I ever tired of passing out and waking up someplace else. This has got to be the third time this past week._ Rey groaned, rubbing her head as she sat up somewhere that was definitely not the grassy field she had collapsed in. Oh look - her hands were back in binders. Looser ones at least. Small mercies. She could feel the telltale tingle of a Bacta patch on her shoulder covering the hole from the blaster. It still ached with every movement but no longer burned, a dulled ache.

Rey took a glance around, and even in the darkness, she knew these surroundings. She was in one of the small huts on Ahch-To. Not the one she had taken over, as that one was probably still lacking a roof and several walls. Master Luke’s?

The darkness stirred by her feet, and Rey gently closed her side of the Bond as her senses leapt into high alert. If something bad was going to happen, she really didn’t want Ben to feel it. And Rey wanted to be free of distractions for a moment.

“Rey?” Master Luke’s rough grumble cut through the darkness. His voice was grizzly with sleep, and probably one of the best things she had heard in an eon. He was sitting on a small chair towards the foot of the bed, leaning against a stone wall.

“Luke.” Rey infused the word with all of her relief, and had the sudden urge to hug the man. She moved towards him but thought better of it just before remembering that her hands were in binders. Besides - she rather doubted he would appreciate hugs as much as Chewie did. Still, she sat up ramrod straight on the small cot, coming as close as she dared to the Jedi. “What’s happened?”

Luke’s metal hand clasped and unclasped, and he stared at it for what felt like an eternity before answering. “Much.” Rey wasn’t especially fond of the sound of that. She sat back on her heels awkwardly and waited for the rest of the story.

Luke’s speech was halting, hesitant. “Your attacker is dead. Your friend, the girl - Rose? - shot him. Apparently that little porg she was holding was really cover for her blaster. She shot him in the back while he was going after me. Smart girl. I like her. She has guts. Han - Han would have liked her, too.” Luke paused again, looking anywhere but at Rey. “They still haven’t determined if he was working alone or not. He wasn’t especially high ranking - just a squadron leader - but he was high enough where there have been... shockwaves.”

Rey nodded, the corners of her mouth quirking slightly at Rose’s cunning. The scrappy little mechanic would take good care of Finn and Poe. And they, in turn, would take good care of her.

Her half-smiled slid from her face as she realized what was missing from Luke’s recap. “What about Chewie?” Why hadn’t he mentioned the Wookiee first? Fear gnawed at Rey’s stomach, a feeling she had become too familiar with. The aching tug of helplessness.

“As far as we can tell, Chewie is alright.”

“What do you mean, as far as you can tell?”

“He hasn’t woken. All of our diagnostic scans confirm that the damage caused by the blaster was... repaired, but he’s been unconscious since the incident. He’s getting good care, Rey. I shouldn’t worry too much.” But Luke was worried, his words a placating lie that Rey was unwilling to believe.

Rey chewed her lip, unsatisfied with this answer. She raised an eyebrow and titled her head, communicating without words that she hadn’t believed him.

Luke sighed heavily, plainly unhappy with telling her this next part. “Rey... he was _gone_. I felt his passing - and just a heartbeat later his lifeforce roared back into existence. It was... quite the feeling. You and Ben brought him back. No one really _knows_ what that means. It’s been ages since anything like that has happened – an extremely deep knowledge of the Force would be required, and truthfully that’s something we’ve lost in the years since the Jedi were wiped out.” Luke paused, running a hand over his grey beard. “A certain component of the Dark is required, too.”

“ _Oh Maker._ ” Her stomach roiled, this morning’s caf threatening to repeat. She’d called on the Dark again, out of fear. Had she stained her soul? Chewbacca’s? Sent Ben further into the Dark? Did Wookiees believe in an afterlife – had she just robbed Chewbacca of his peace in her desperation to keep him _here_ , with her? Oh _Maker_ , had she taken the chance to see Han from him?

Rey’s palms began to sweat. She was selfish, so selfish. A stupid child. She never knew when to give up, and because off that, her friend hung in between life and death, stuck in suspended animation from which he may never awaken. And even if he did – would he be the same?

But she couldn’t have just let Chewbacca die. Surely, that was not the right thing. If she had the power, why shouldn’t she use it to help her friends?

“Maker, indeed.” Luke said slowly, oblivious to Rey’s raging internal debate. He was still scowling at the dirt floor instead of at her. “The only people who know are myself and Leia- and now you. But everyone is... abuzz.” An understatement. Silence hung heavy in the air, bursting with unsaid words.

Rey was really very sure that she didn’t want to hear what Luke was still keeping from her but sensed that she needed to know. She prodded gently. “Master... what aren’t you saying? You won’t look at me, and you’re being very careful to _not_ say something. What’s really going on?”

Luke stretched out his metal hand to Rey, an invitation. Rey reached for it with her two bound hands without hesitation, but her fingers went right through his. Her jaw dropped, and she met the Jedi’s eyes as Kylo’s words from what felt like years ago raced through her brain. _You can’t be doing this. The effort would kill you. “_ How are you doing this.” Rey whispered, fear thick in her voice. “Ben said a Force projection like this was too much. It would burn you up.”

Luke chuckled. “Don’t worry about me. I’m in no danger from this.” Luke shook his head and titled a grey eyebrow skyward. “Not like I’m faking a duel or doing something strenuous. I’m not trying to interact with your environment. I’m sitting calmly from a few parsecs away, talking to my apprentice incorporeally. I will be _fine_ , Rey.”

Rey crossed her arms and stared him down. “It’s a stupid risk.” _Don’t make me lose anyone else. Don’t you kriffing dare._ She intentionally didn’t shield her thoughts - if Master Luke could hear them, he deserved to know that she didn’t want to lose him.

“I’ll be the master of my own decisions, thank you very much, Padawan.” He pointed a finger at her with mock seriousness. “Do you think I’m so out of practice that a little Force projection is going to do me in? Really, Rey. Give me some credit. I _did_ blow up two Death Stars and topple the Empire. Which your friend Rose reminded me of about six separate times in the space of the fifteen minutes we talked.”

Despite herself and the situation, Rey found herself chuckling. “That does sound like Rose. She was apoplectic when Poe called you – what was it - a creepy Space Grandpa. You should have seen her, swooping to your defense. Her finger practically went up Poe’s nose she was shaking it at him so closely.”

Luke barked out a rough laugh. “Creepy Space Grandpa indeed. That little Dameron boy has a short memory. I wonder if he recalls just exactly who gave his family that tree he used to play in. His mother, Shara...” Luke trailed off, eyes focused on something in the distance.

“See, when you say things like ‘little boy’ about an over 30-year-old man it sort of justifies the grandpa thing.” Rey said softly, sensing that the memory of Poe’s late mother held some pain for her master. She knew it pained Leia.

“Mind your tongue, young lady.” Luke chuckled softly, no bite behind his words.

“Not helping your case.” Rey sniggered, but sobered quickly. They truly hadn’t much time, and she needed answers. “Where are you, really?”

Luke’s lopsided grin slid back into a thin line as the teasing sparkle left his eyes. “I made a deal. I would cooperate with Holdo, and her _grand plan_ , if she would spare you. Leia and I are with her now, as is Chewie, on some ship bound for a base the Rebellion used a long time ago. I’m not sure where, she hasn’t been exactly forthcoming with the details. Your friends... strongly disagreed with Holdo, as you might imagine. They stole the Falcon and are goodness knows where, largely with my sister’s blessing. There was a big altercation once Rose dispatched that squadron leader. Your friends are staunchly on your side, even after seeing a helmet-less Kylo Ren appear seemingly out of nowhere, and then proceed to participate in the strongest surge of Light force-use we’ve seen in the last fifty years. At _your_ behest.”

Her palms began to sweat again. _Everyone_ was in trouble because of her. “What’s going to happen to you and General Organa? And my friends? And wait - people _saw_ Ben? How is that possible? I thought the Force Bond was only for us. I stood on a crowded bridge on a Star Destroyer and no one saw _me_.”

“I saw Ben last time he appeared on the island, remember?” Rey grimaced, as did Luke. They were unlikely forget anytime soon.

“I could probably see him then because I am also a Force user, but it doesn’t surprise me that non-sensitives could see him this time, even if it isn’t how it usually happens. This island is soaked in ancient Force energy – not to mention, a _lot_ of power went into what you two did, Rey. A lot. More than I ever thought to see in my lifetime. I meant what I said - I’ve only seen the raw power you possess once before, and that was in Ben Solo. Powerful Light, powerful Darkness. The two of you together...” Luke trailed off, either unable or unwilling to finish his thought.

Rey hung her head. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I didn’t want to expose _this_.” She fluttered her bound hands around ineffectively. “I just - I panicked. I couldn’t lose Chewie.” _Abandonment issues, little lost girl?_ The ghosts of sandy dunes and overbright skies whispered in her ear, and she batted them back angrily.

“I know, Rey. Your intentions are pure. No one - well, more accurately, no one that you _care_ about - is questioning that. But now you must be _very_ careful. Even more than before. When word of this gets out, the galaxy is going to be on fire. And word _will_ get out. _”_

 _Well, fuck._ “Ben’s going to be in trouble.”

“I know.” Luke said grimly. “I’m certain it will come out that Ben Solo is Kylo Ren, who is now the Supreme Leader. It may be a problem for him - it may not. I’m thinking Ben will be able to handle himself. But the Resistance is in tatters. Half of them want you both dead, the other half want you both sainted. I don’t necessarily think this is a rift we’re going to be able to heal."

Rey said nothing, instead staring at the dirt floor that had so occupied Master Luke a few moments ago. In the space of a few hours, the whole world seemed turned on its ear.

“What do I do now?” Rey whispered, using the toe of her boot to make circles in the dirt. “I have nothing. I have no one. I’m locked up in binders on a remote island planet with no weapons and no ship, and my friends are scattered or in trouble because of me.”

“Well... that’s not entirely true.”

Rey’s head shot up, her eyes locking on Luke’s ice blue ones. “What do you mean?”

“I left the lightsaber on the island - somewhere no one else would go, but that you could navigate. I assume you can figure out where it is.”

 _The Darkness. “_ Yes... I can. I know where it is.” She nodded slowly. “I can get it.”

“Good girl. There’s something else down there for you, too. Now, those binders - you snapped out of ones tighter then that a few short hours ago. Concentrate, and you’ll be free of them.” He paused and stared pointedly at her as if waiting for a reaction. “Well?” Luke crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow, slipping back into his teacher role with little effort.

Han’s voice breezed through her memory, his word echoing Luke’s. _Concentrate_. Rey closed her eyes, letting the binders that circled her wrists form in her mind. She could feel the Force thrumming in her veins, barely harnessed. It felt like an overpowered engine, struggling to be free of its confines and run. Ready for action. It felt... strange. Like she was only barely holding on to the power as she set it to the metal - and then there was a bending, changing, snapping, twisting, _twisted_ \- _free_!

With a sizzle of ozone, the binders thumped gently on the cot, red-hot edges singing Rey’s skin as they slid off. She yelped and jumped to her feet, shaking her hands to clear the sensation.

Both of Luke’s eyebrows were in his hairline. “Unlocking them would have been sufficient.”

“What’s going on in there?” An unfamiliar voice called from outside the hut, the metallic ping of a weapon cocking accompanying it.

 _Oh, Force._  Two angry sets of footfalls approached the door, and Rey tensed.

Luke’s projection stood as well, flickering as he did so. He grimaced, and Rey could see a sheen of sweat on his brow. A jolt of fear went through her chest. _You liar. This is taxing you._

“Rey - I have to go. Be brave - but be smart. I can’t be here to help you - but look to the _old knowledg_ e. It will serve you well.” Luke smiled sadly and raised a hand in farewell. Before Rey had a chance to respond, he had vanished completely. Rey was once again alone in his hut, and without any more answers. It seemed they would never be able to have that conversation.

She squared her shoulders, ignoring the pain in her wound, and braced herself for the physical altercation that was to come. The footfalls on the wet grass were only getting closer. Stretching out, she could sense only two other humanoid minds on the island - at least they hadn’t left an entire squadron. They probably didn’t expect a weaponless, wounded, had-been-unconscious girl to put up much of a fight.

They would be wrong.

The two men kicked the door open unceremoniously, frowning at the empty cot they were greeted with. “Ah kriff. Where could she have gotten to?” the one closer to Rey, short and squat, groused loudly as he kicked the corner of the bed.

Rey slipped out carefully from behind the door, slinging her broken binders at the head of the man nearest to her. She wasn’t taking any chances. The metal struck the man square in the temple, and he staggered back into his partner with a shout. Rey ducked just in time to avoid a red blaster bolt from the far guard, wincing as chunks of rock rained down from the wall to her back.

“You little bitch.” The wounded man snarled, unholstering his own blaster and taking aim. “Orders or not, you’ll pay for that one.” Rey slid forward and kicked out his knee from under him, her heavy boot crunching the vulnerable joint. He howled and dropped the blaster, and Rey snatched it from the air with the Force.

“Clumsy.” She said shortly, throwing a thin arm around the man’s neck and drawing him to her chest, facing out to his somewhat flabbergasted partner. She dug the blaster into his bleeding temple, eliciting a pained yelp. Pulling on the Force, she used it to ground her muscles. The man far outweighed her, but she would not be budged until she wanted to.

“Can we talk like civilized people, or am I going to have to use this?” Rey growled angrily, the pain in her shoulder mounting. She wanted her lightsaber. She wanted to go _home_. But home was _nowhere,_ and she was alone. And now - she was angry.

The other man dropped his blaster to the ground, hands raised in the air. “Fark, Graehm. They weren’t kidding.” He was obviously addressing the man Rey held captive, who was stiff as a board under her wiry arms. “This one is tricky.”

“Sit down and kick your blaster out the door.” Rey growled, losing patience. The man did as he was told, plopping ungracefully onto the cot.

“Done, little girl. You going to let my buddy go?”

“When I’m sure you two nerf-herders aren’t going to bother me anymore. I don’t want to hurt anyone.” A snort from the man she held captive, and Rey poked him with the blaster barrel again for emphasis. “But I will, _Graehm_ , if you plan on giving me any more trouble.”

“No trouble. Not from me.” The man on the cot was clearly smarter than his counterpart. His hands were well in the air.

“Did they leave you a ship?” Rey spat, feeling herself beginning to slow. She had to end this, and quickly.

“Yes.” Graehm said tersely. “Fat chance we’ll let you have it, though”

Rolling her eyes, Rey slammed the blaster butt into his bloodied temple, and the obnoxious man slumped to the ground. Gasping slightly, she released some of her hold on the Force. She kicked him in ill temper before rounding on the other guard, holding the blaster out before her. “Are you going to be smarter than this asshole?”

“Yes. Infinitely. I’m not dying on this Maker-forsaken planet at the hands of a girl. I’ve got better things to do.”

“You have a name?”

“Bish.”

“Fine, Bish. You may still die on this planet, because I’m taking your ship. Give me the codes. Right now. And then we’re going to tie up your little friend -” another booted kick - Maker she was _proper_ pissed now - “and then you. And I’m going to take both of your guns and leave your asses in this hut. I have an errand to run, and then I’m _leaving_. Maker, it would be so much easier just to kill you both.” She growled, feeling the Dark well up in her chest and fight for space. It scared her.

Bish held up his hands, dark brown eyes full of sincerity. “No trouble from me, I meant it. I’ll tie up Graehm and then we’ll both just have a nice chat till they come back to check on us in a day or two. No problem. The ships code is 421-7. Will grant you door control access as well as the navcomputer. Change it after if you want, all the same to me, I hated that Y-wing anyways.” Bish sat back on the bed, looking around the room. “What, uh - what are we going to use for restraints?”

 _Fark_. Rey had no idea. _This was a horrible plan._ But then - she remembered that little Force trick Ben had used to knock her out on Takodana. A snap, and she was dead to the world. She could do that. She’d be through the cave and away before these knuckleheads woke up.

The Dark in her chuckled. It would help her use this trick. It was amusing.

Rey held up her left hand, smirking slightly at Bish. “Oh, I’ll find something.” She grabbed the Force, but somehow it felt oily, _slippery_ this time. It leapt to her willingly, twining around her hand and zinging into the foot-soldier’s brain with a _pop_ as she snapped her fingers.

Bish slumped back on the cot peacefully. A second snap, and the same trick was applied to the still-unconscious Graehm, for good measure. Rey let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, letting the Force flow away from her again to pool quietly in the back of her mind. Arm shaking, she finally lowered the blaster and tucked it into her waistband. _It’s over. And no one died._

After a quick survey of the small hut, she saw nothing that could have been used as a binder for the two men. Rey gave up on that line of thought, and instead began to look for anything that might be useful - or sentimental, to return to Master Luke. Her eyes landed on two things - a small silver case on the roughhewn desk, and a red crystal pendant hanging from a small nail driven into the rock wall. She picked up both, slipping the pendant around her neck and pocketing the compass before exiting the hut. You never knew when things would come in handy.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Rey stumbled outside and picked up the second blaster, keeping this one in her hand. Without hesitation, her feet began to run down the worn path leading to their former campsite, ready to retrieve the pack Chewbacca had hid for her just a few hours ago. She sped past rocky outcroppings and tufts of tall grass, blue skies rolling through her field of vision. Waves crashed. The porgs squealed and squeaked. And Rey rounded the corner to the campsite, the wind whipping her hair loose from her raggedy bun, desperately trying to formulate a plan.


	17. Chapter 17

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Rey stood at the mouth of the cave, waves crashing below her. The overfilled pack was slung over her shoulder, the strained strap pinching her skin. It was heavy, but she didn’t even know what it contained. She had grabbed it and kept running and hadn’t stopped until the toes of her boots hung over the edge of the cavern.

Now she was still, and Darkness was whispering in her ear. It was excited about the prospect of reentering the cave, but Rey was not. There were no answers there, only questions. There was no way of knowing what would greet her in there - the same puzzle, or a different one. She was a stranger to the truths of her own life, but this cave _knew_. It tormented her.

But right now, that wasn’t what mattered. Her lightsaber was in there. And she was running out of time. Not really much choice to be made - she certainly couldn’t go back. Rey grit her teeth and swung down, fingers scraping along the rough rocks.

It took only moments, seeming like eternity. Rey was sweaty and shivering from the salt-laced breeze by the time she splashed through the last puddle and ducked inside the cave. The gloom inside swallowed her up, and she felt small in a way she hadn’t since her daily survival-driven clambers through the skeletal bellies of dead ships.

It was only a few steps in before she could feel her saber - it called to her, bright and happiness and _hope_ cutting through the murk inside. She practically ran towards it, instinct alone slowing her steps to avoid any unpleasant pitfalls.

It was close, very close, to the section of the cave where that infinite mirror lay - but not so close that Rey had to see it. The silver metal of the saber hilt almost immediately caught her eye, and she closed her fingers around it with elation. Its smooth metal felt cool in her palm, and it rolled between her fingers with pleasing weight. _Hers_.

Next to her saber, tucked behind a small boulder, were two more items she could barely make out in the gloom. Rey stuck out her hand almost blindly, her fingers gently brushing the rough bindings of a large stack of ancient books. _The Jedi texts - look to the old knowledge indeed._ She pulled them closer and slid them into her pack. Master Luke was right - these would be useful. There was still so much she didn’t know.

And there beside them lay Chewbacca’s bandolier, it’s silver ammo boxes catching the faint light in the cavern to flicker in her vision. Rey had almost forgotten that the Wookiee had given it to her. A flicker of shame raced through her gut, but resolve rose to meet it. She couldn’t keep this. It was too intrinsically _Chewbacca_. But... she could return it to him. It belonged with him.

But she had to keep it safe, first. It was far too large for her to wear in his style, slung across her body with the satchel resting on her hip - but she could manage to hang it across both shoulders, forming an X across her small body. The leather pouch rested mostly across her backside in this configuration and one side of the strap was awkwardly twisted, but it would work for now. She tucked her lightsaber securely into the bandolier’s satchel and shifted her pack to be squarely strapped on both her shoulders in compensation for the added weight of the books. Rey rose to her feet, more than ready to leave. The promised Y-wing called to her - _freedom_.

But then the whispering started. And Rey froze in place, paralyzed with fear. Her very heartbeat seemed to slow, pounding heavily in her ears as the rushing of waves was replaced with the breathy mumbles of some unseen horror. The air became thick, turgid; stale and strangling. Everything in her body screamed for her to move, to run away, to find that misbegotten ship and _leave_ , but her feet had burrowed into the soil - she was rooted to the ground firmer than any tree.

_Wandering child. Wandering child._

_Come to me._

_This is not going to go the way you think._

_So lost_

_Helpless._

_There is good in him, I can feel it._

_I can teach you._

_This is not going to go the way you THINK._

Her feet moved almost of their own accord, one shuffling step after another, toward the darkness of the mirror. She fought within herself, desperately wishing she could snap out of this trance and run far, far away. Across the galaxy if she had to. But this was beyond her reckoning. Her shaking legs betrayed her, and she stood before the mirror as the way behind her closed in an oily grey fog. Trapped.

Unlike the last time, there was no unbroken image of herself in the mirror to contend with, or shadowy figure reaching for her hand. She stood before pure blackness, velvet and dangerous. Vague shapes moved behind this inky curtain, but she couldn’t make them out. The whispering continued in an endless loop, the same phrases repeated with new words interspersed. The strange voices were almost recognizable, but were distorted and warped so as to make them impossible to decipher. The only voice she could clearly understand - Master Luke’s - was a snarling shell of its usual self. A half-remembered whisper of a nightmare she wanted to forget.

The murmuring patterns were close enough to almost be predictable, but as she felt a framework form, it was completely shattered and began anew some other way. Just close enough to drive someone mad.

_Motherless child._

_Yearning for guidance._

_My arm is reached out, I am here._

_This is not going to go the way you think._

_Follow my voice._

_You need a teacher._

_Papa, please forgive me._

_This is not going to go the way you think._

_Don’t you know I had no choice?_

_I am with you, you were never alone._

_The night is filled with voices._

_Motherless child._

_This is not going to go the way you think._

_I remember everything._

_I will give you a home._

For a moment, the curtain was thrown back, the wind of it blowing her hair completely out of what remained of her bun and tossing it about her face. But all Rey could make out was more blackness, with an infinitesimal pinprick of light at its center. It started as nothing more than a crack in the blackness, but rapidly expanded till Rey was engulfed in a whitehot supernova.

Loose hair whipped around her face, stinging her eyes and cheeks. Her retinas burned, and she threw up her hands defensively to shield herself from what felt like an explosion. Time was out of order, disjointed. She was Rey-the-girl, Rey-the-mother, Rey-the-crone. She was everything, all at once. Rejoicing, sorrowing, sighing, laughing, bleeding, healing, _dying_ , living. It was unbearable, her chest full to the bursting till it seemed to seep through her pores, her fingernails, her very nerve endings. A scream echoed around her, and it surprised Rey to realize it was her own.

The brightness muted into soft, diffuse daylight. She was thrown out of the cave, staggering drunkenly into the midday sun. Rey dropped to her knees on the sharp rocks of the shoreline, trying not to vomit as her stomach turned and her mind reeled. Her senses returned to her slowly, each one more intense than the last. Her bloody knees. Her raw throat. The softness of her hair on the back of her neck. The sharp stab of the bolt-wound in her shoulder. The aching emptiness where the pull and tug of Ben should be, the door between them locked fast and her control too tattered to wrench it open.

 _Ben_. _I need Ben._

The waves crashed. Sea-birds screamed. Thalas squalled. She had to _leave_.

On numb feet, with numb legs twisting on the uneven ground, Rey flew. Away from this cursed island, of all the hopes that she had lost here, all the questions gained with none of the answers found. She was ten years older for having set foot on Ahch-To, ten years colder, ten years wiser and ten years more tired.

She wanted to go _home_.

But home was nowhere.

The tears came then, hot and panicked, her chest heaving both from exertion and from fear. She was reduced to pure instinct, every fiber of her being screaming for her Bondmate and railing against the emptiness in her mind where he should be. She wanted to throw open the Bond and beg for Ben to come, to find her, to _bring her home_ , but she couldn’t manage the concentration. Her mind was a maelstrom and her center was gone, even the Force beyond her grasp for the moment. She was empty and alone. Robbed of her warmth.

She sped past the stone huts, barely noticing the wreckage that remained where her small room once stood. There may have been things in there she could have used, but she didn’t even slow her step. She was beyond caring. She had to leave.

The y-wing sat innocently on the hillock where she was shot, where Chewbacca was shot, where everything had turned on its ear. It was skeletal and ancient, looking very much like it was not entirely space worthy, but it didn’t matter.

She had to leave.

Rey palmed the hatch control, keying in 421-7 with a shaky, bloody finger. The hatch popped with a small hiss, and she was clambering over the durasteel hull and into the pilot’s seat before it was even fully open. Her pack was unshouldered and flung into the copilot’s seat with little care, books jostling and unknown items clinking together as it landed harshly on the cushion. She kept the bandolier on, pulling the leather pouch to one side as to avoid sitting on her saber resting safely inside.

Rey settled in the seat, forcing herself to be calm. She was in the ship. This was her way out. She needed to breathe, to feel, to be rational in order to pilot herself away from here without disaster. She needed to _concentrate_.

_In, and out. In, and out. In, and out. Life, and death. A balance. The Force._

She fell back into the Force, never so grateful to feel that strange presence in between her bones. It buoyed her, a resting place in the gale of the nightmare she had run from even as it was the cause of it. Balance. Her breathing slowed, the erratic pounding in her chest turning into a drumming. _Concentrate_.

Rey studied the controls briefly, suddenly immeasurably glad that she had scavenged an Alliance flight sim trainer that had included Y-Wings. This ship was old, but it appeared well maintained. She could easily manage a jump to hyperspace - and hopefully one jump was all she would have to make.

A red switch was flipped, and the whine of the warm-up cycle began. Engines roared to life behind her, the floorboard shaking with the power of them. _Yes - this will do._ She tapped the fuel gauge - a little over half way filled. Many populated planets were within her reach then. She could do this. She could have used an astromech, if only for the companionship, but the two guards hadn’t been left with one. Unsurprisingly, she was alone.

The warmup completed, Rey switched her attention to the navcomputer. But where to go? Not back to Jakku. Not to the Resistance. Not to the First Order - regardless, she had no idea where they were. And certainly, she wouldn’t stay here. She stared at the green letters on the black screen for a moment, then shook her head and instead simply took the craft up, out of the atmosphere. Maybe she could think better in space. Maybe things would be clearer.

As the craft began to ascend, Rey slipped on one of the discarded helmets, dropping the visor down to shield her eyes from the light of the twin suns. Her hands shook as they gripped he controls, easing the ship through the final layers of atmo and into the vastness of space. She set the old Y-wing into a planetary orbit and leaned back against the seat with a sigh. There wasn’t overmuch fuel to burn on waiting.

In a small craft like this, the cold crept in sooner. Rey was shaking from the adrenaline comedown and freezing from a combination of her inability to handle space and the sweat cooling on her body. _I wonder - what did Chewie put in that pack? Maybe I can double up my shirt or something..._ She twisted behind her, pulling the pack into her lap and sitting tailor fashion on the chair, huddling as close as she could for warmth.

Putting the ancient texts aside gently, she dug through sundries like ration bars and water packs, her fingers bumping against something hard and cylindrical in the bottom surrounded in layers of cloth. She fished the lump out and unwound a complete change of clothes - including bindings and undergarments, thank the Maker - to find a warm poncho which surrounded none other than the expensive bottle of liquor Ben had sent back with her.

Both the items nearly brought her to tears again, moisture welling up fresh in her already stinging eyes. She slid into the poncho awkwardly, leaving the bandolier on underneath and having to unbuckle herself from the seat in order to get it all the way over her shoulders. It was a dusty brown and smelled a bit old - but most everything on the Falcon did. Warmth descended on her by degrees, starting from the inside out. The feeling of being remembered was far more warming that any clothes could possibly manage to be.

The poncho wasn’t as good as a Wookiee hug - but it came close.

Rey turned her attention back to the liquor. A sharp yank freed the cork from the bottle, and she eyed the amber liquid sloshing about with anticipation. Flying a starship drunk - not a good idea. But flying a starship with a certain warmth in her belly sounded just about perfect. A small swallow of the alcohol trailed down her throat, burning pleasantly as it made to settle in her belly.

She held the bottle to her chest, replacing the cork carefully with aching fingers that gripped its slim neck till their knuckles turned white. _Ben_. Her heart ached again with the thought.

Rey watched the stars for a moment, continuing her slow crawl around the vibrant planet below. She still felt raw and unbalanced, but the panic had largely left her and the shaking in her hands was subsiding. Her mind was more clear - perhaps more so than she had been in years. Almost without her conscious direction, her brain had begun the process of absorbing the experience, categorizing it, and boxing things away. Compartmentalization was the key to surviving, and Rey was good at surviving.

She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself digest exactly what had happened during the six short hours that she had been back on Ahch-To. Then, perhaps she would know where to go.

Only a few brief moments had passed when Rey’s hazel eyes snapped back open. She quickly took another dram of the liquor, this time to steady herself. Whatever she had been expecting - it wasn’t this.

The first lesson in the cave had crystalized in her mind, even as she stood amid the tatters of the second. She _knew_ the shape in the shadows of the mirror beyond a doubt. It was like the tumblers of a lock finally clicking into place, and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it sooner. The clues had all _been_ there - she just ignored them. Belonging wasn’t behind her - it was ahead. Maz had been _right_.

Her family was long gone - but she had a home. She _knew_ she did.

Her desire for belonging, companionship, a _home_ , had been condensed down into one word, a single thought. The ever-present echo in her mind. All she’d ever wanted boiled down into one thing. And she hadn’t wanted to feel it, pushed it away and denied it – but she could run from the truth no longer.

Rey stared at the stars, her mind racing. This wasn’t Jakku, where attachments and sentimentality were a weakness. She could let herself feel this, call it by its name.

Of course she loved him. Of course. He was first thing that she thought of in desperation, upon waking, the last thing her mind dwelled on before drifting to sleep. _Of course._ She was lying only to herself.

His voice was one of those echoing off the moss-damp walls of the cave; one of many, but the most important. _I will give you a home._

The Force burbled, a babbling brook running along her spine. She grasped it again, and it melted into her control willingly with the silk-smooth feel she was accustomed to – no trace of the oily wiggle she had harnessed earlier. Rey closed her eyes, centering herself once again in the strange power that lived in the spaces between her bones.

She was not powerless. She had the Force.

Two heartbeats, a breath, and Rey cracked the door of the Bond, letting all her complicated emotions flow through in a torrent. There wasn’t much control she could exert over them right now, anyways. She still felt broken by the weight of all she had learned. Her lower lip trembled despite using every ounce of self-control to master herself, and her words were far more shaken than she had intended them to be. She wanted to go home, and her home was carried within her. All she had to do was ask.

 _Ben,_ she cried into the ether, begging him to hear her. _Help me. I need you._

Home was everywhere.


	18. Chapter 18

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

“...and the scouts in Sector 47 reported no sign of recent activity, though they did send back reports of a large dwelling that had appeared to be recently occupied...”

Kylo had been fairly successfully tuning out the droning of the underling giving his report. It wasn’t a bad report, per se, neither in informational content or delivery, but he just did not give one single shit.

It was 0957 on the ship’s chrono, and it had been nearly three hours since he had stumbled out of his command shuttle. There was still no word from Rey. Not a flicker.

  1. _Fuck_.



He tried not to let his irritation show, because he didn’t feel like making the small man nervous and then having this briefing stretch even further into eternity. Still, he felt his knee begin to bounce and he tried unsuccessfully to quell it.

“Thank you, Captain.” Hux purred to his left, dismissing the underling with an imperious wave of his gloved hand. “That concludes the briefing. I think you all have your orders.”

Kylo practically shot to his feet and stalked through the door, surcoat billowing behind him. He was too anxious to properly enjoy it, however. A good billow was fairly rare. _Damn this girl._

He stalked into his private office a few meters down that hall, shutting the door behind him and praying to whatever gods he still believed in that no one would need him for at least the next hour. Removing his helmet and setting it in its now-usual place on the corner of his desk, he closed his eyes and put his head in his hands for a moment. A frustrated groan rose out of his chest. _Damn this girl._

Distraction. He needed a distraction. He grabbed for his datapad and pulled up the report on the locations of his Knights. He scrolled through it with moderate interest, noting their assignments with half of his attention. Coruscant, Dathomir, Malastare, Ord Mantell. Apparently both the Sniper and the Rouge were working together on something on Ord Mantell and has been for nearly a year. The details of that assignment were almost becoming interesting when he felt the Bond click open, and his own relief mingled with Rey’s. 

Before he could send a proper message, the onslaught of her emotions choked him, making him half glad he had removed his helmet, so he wouldn’t feel as if he had to gasp for breath. She was a waterfall in a drought, and he was a man dying of thirst. _Damn - this girl._

He had to admit to being perplexed by the content of her emotional makeup, however. Fear, certainly. Resolve. Hope. These were all things he had come to associate with Rey. These were not a surprise - they seemed to be a part of her very basic self.

After the events of early this morning, however, he was certainly surprised to feel joy. Relief. Longing? And something else - something nebulous and ill-defined, but strong and unshakable. It settled in the pit of his stomach and stayed there, making itself at home. He’d felt this before - a half remembered dream. He started to analyze it, but her next words stole all his attention.

 _Ben. Help me. I need you._ Full of desperation and longing, which stirred something primal inside of his psyche.

He stood, even though she couldn’t see it, feeling ready to fend off the entire galaxy. She _needed_ him.

_Rey, I’m here. What’s going on?_

_...It’s too much to explain. Here - have a look._

Kylo was staggered back into his seat by the onslaught of memories rushing through their link. They were blurry at first, but focus and clarity rushed in as soon as his uncle’s haggard face swam into view. Rey’s conversation with Luke, full of disturbing news regarding the Resistance and Chewbacca, played in his mind’s eye. The implications of that conversation alone would have been enough to send him reeling, his mind already scrambling to recalculate their goals. He saw her defeat of the two guards – the lick of pride in her use of the Force sleep trick tickling his breastbone - and then, her second journey inside the cave.

The warmth of Rey’s elation at having her things returned to her quickly turned into horror as she realized what was happening. How powerless she felt. Her confusion, turning quickly into panic and terror. And then - everything. Just, _everything_. Kylo’s vision spun and he staggered as Rey’s had when she was thrown from that cave. He watched her gather herself and run, hair streaming behind her, as the only thoughts in her mind were of escape and of _him_.

And now he saw Rey in the stolen Y-wing, frozen under her brown poncho. Fingers circled around the neck of his purloined liquor bottle. The tracks of dried tears on her cheeks, her hair a tangled halo around her face. Hazel eyes full of something he didn’t quite understand, but instead felt deep in the pit of his stomach. Maker, she was beautiful.

He tried to speak, but all he managed to say was a simple _Oh_.

Rey laughed quietly, chasing away some of the sadness that still lingered in her eyes. _Yeah, ‘oh’. So, I’m still in orbit around Ahch-To. I have a half a tank of fuel. I can make it to any mid-rim planet, more than likely. I just - I don’t know where to go._

Kylo thought for a moment, then remembered his datapad. _I may have an idea._ Who was on Malastare? That was probably the closest major planet. A few taps, and he was back at the main page of the report. It was the Monk. Could he trust the Monk? He may have to. There weren’t many other options.

_Head for Malastare. One of the Knights of Ren is there, apparently stationed to observe something in Pixelito, the capital city. I’m going to contact him and instruct him to bring you to me. I’ll... I’ll think of some acceptable reason for this, don’t worry._

Rey punched in the coordinates into her navcomputer and smiled. _Looks like it’s only about twelve hours away. I’ll get going then._ She was plainly relieved to have some sort of a plan - even if it wasn’t fully formed yet. Kylo was both gratified and a little surprised at her blind trust in him - though he supposed he really shouldn’t be. This _was_ the girl who had essentially mailed herself to him in an escape pod. Trust was a funny thing.

Kylo watched as she pulled the ship from orbit, moving safely away from the planet before punching down the sequence that would take her into hyperspace. It was only moments before the blue lights of streaky stars glistened in her eyes, full of promise and hope.

 _So - who exactly is this contact? He’s a Knight?_ Rey recrossed her legs and set the liquor bottle back in her pack, eyes unfocused but somehow still staring right through him. Kylo moved his attention to his office door for a moment, locking the door controls carefully using the Force. Responsibilities be damned.

 _Is that my Whyren’s Reserve?_ He said, the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

 _Don’t change the topic._ She scolded, rolling her eyes. _Of course it is._ Her eyes glittered, and Kylo wondered exactly how much of the bottle she’d already had in the past few moments.

_Thanks for not letting it blow up. You owe me a drink, scavenger girl._

_Thank Chewie for that, I found it tucked into the supply pack that he left me. And you owe me answers, darksider._ She waggled a finger at him. _Bring me home, and you can have your drink._

Kylo blinked and shook his head slightly, wondering if he had misheard her. Home? Home. To him.

Yes, she had definitely had too much to drink if she was being this transparent. He decided to ignore her comment, making a mental note that Rey likely couldn’t hold her liquor. She didn’t have feelings for him. Not like that. And even if she did, they weren’t something she would consciously acknowledge. It must have bled through in her vulnerability.

It’s just a mistake. As much as he enjoyed the unconscious lapses of her emotion, he wouldn’t let himself hope. She cared for him - oh yes, there’s that foreign feeling in his stomach confirming it. But she wasn’t supposed to. It would fade.

Back to business.

 _Yes. He’s called the Monk. He’s probably one of the more level-headed of the Knights. We’re fortunate that he’s the one closest, I wouldn’t have been as apt to trust the Heavy..._ Kylo paused, tapping his datapad again and scanning the information on the Monk’s latest activities. He’d been all over the galaxy in the last year. He was part of the search for Skywalker but was called away from that by Snoke... for something classified? So classified that even he couldn’t see it now? Fuck, he’d have to figure that out.

 _Anyways, he’s the only one of two of the Knights who..._ Kylo trailed off, suddenly extremely uncomfortable with reminding Rey that the man she had placed her trust in had murdered children. And the man he was sending her to meet had stood beside him while it happened, another former student of his uncle. Green light from a drawn saber had illuminated the mirror image of Kylo’s feral grin that split the Monk’s face, the both of them consumed by Darkness and bloodlust and hurt.

Kylo Ren could trust the Monk. Ben Solo could not. It was a distinction that he could not forget, or it would cost him dearly.

Rey frowned, perhaps sensing his conflict. _Ben, what is it?_

He waved her off with a shake of his head. _It’s nothing._ He had no desire to tell her where his thoughts had taken him. Not her - this girl who believed in him. Terror and shame warred for dominion as he scrambled to find something else to talk of that didn’t remind her of his sins. _Murderer,_ the cruel voice whispered with a mocking laugh _. She’ll leave you too._

 _Obviously not._ The girl in question crossed her arms over her chest, worry lines furrowing her brow. _Why hide it from me?_

Instead of rational words, his shame spoke, a tiny flicker of anger sparking in his chest as it did _. Why do you insist on attempting to undo me every time we talk? What makes you think you have the right?_ Ben snarled defensively, and almost instantly regretted it. This wasn’t going to help. But he felt the Darkness rising in him, demanded to be fed. Fear leading to anger.

Rey jumped slightly, pulling her arms closer to her chest in a shielding posture. He didn’t need the bond to know that she’d been stung by his words. _I - I didn’t -_

Common sense warred with his anger, and unfortunately his common sense was losing its footing quickly. _Just because you’re in my head doesn’t mean you have to know everything._

The voice chuckled darkly, clearly pleased. _Yes, that’s right, push her away. Keep all that emotion away from you. You can’t handle it. You don’t deserve it. Safer for her - safer for you. You’re weak. Monster._

 _I don’t need to know everything - I just, I don’t want you to  —_ She said, her doe eyes wide and staring right through him. So much innocence. She was so young. He felt what it had cost her to say those words out loud, and it rocked him to his core.

She was getting too close.

 _Don’t._ It was said with anger but meant in sadness. He wasn’t worth precious emotions. He was a murderer of children. He would destroy her.

 _Don’t open your mouth and speak your feelings, little girl._ He thought to himself. _Don’t try to make them real._

Rey said nothing, but she didn’t have to. He could feel her pain across the galaxy. Fucking hell, he was an idiot and he was going to break her, too, in the same way he broke everything else. He couldn’t look at her, so instead he stared blankly at the datapad, at the photo of the Monk, and the straight lines of text that described the city he was currently in. Anything except for the hurt in her eyes.

 _Go to the spaceport in Pixelito and find the cantina. Make yourself as unobtrusive as possible. I’ll instruct the Monk to find you there. You’ll know him when you see him._ The words felt like dust in his mouth, dying even as he said them.

Still Rey said nothing, and still Kylo steadfastly did not look at her. His destructive anger was simmering, and shame smoldered beside it. _Rey, I’m an asshole._ That’s what he should say. But he didn’t. He said nothing, because he was also an idiot. Her sadness clawed at him, but he had become very good at ignoring unpleasant things.

The silence stretched into a quarter of an hour. The only way Kylo knew Rey hadn’t left was that her aura hadn’t faded into the background. It was as if she was still right next to him, waiting. Biding her time. He continued to re-read the same words on the datapad, because he was too frozen to even click over to the next page.

 _I wish..._ Her voice was soft, as if talking to a wild animal. He supposed that was a more accurate descriptor of him than most.

 _What do you wish?_ That he could control his temper? That she could control her feelings? The teeth were gone from his tone, but the words were still harsh. Still, he refused to look at her.

He didn’t have to. Her emotions were screaming at him from every possible angle, surrounding him in sadness, regret, confusion, hope, trust, fear, affection, and resolute, unshakable belief. It was too much – far too much when he was used to the anger and fear that ruled his own life.

Silence - then a pressure on his cheek, over the scar she had given him. Warm and soft and too fleeting. He looked up in shock, but Rey was gone, faded back into his mind as a silent reminder.

His anger turned inward and smoldered, his self-loathing chasing away the feeling of Rey’s gesture of affection in the pit of his stomach. She should fear him. She should turn and go and never look back.

There are no kisses for men who kill children.

She should not come. Rey should run to the farthest reaches of the galaxy before running to _him_. He did not deserve her care, her kindness – her belief. Kylo _wanted_ to tell her to run, to shut the Bond, to hide herself from him before he took her sweetness and twisted it in the same bent he followed. He was a cancer.

Instead, he sent a coded message to the Monk. _Change of assignment. Look for a young human woman, about 20 standard years. Brown hair, 1.7 meters tall. She will be in the spaceport cantina in Pixelito sometime around twelve standard hours from now. She will respond to the name Rey. Bring her to the Supremacy immediately, and unharmed. She will go peacefully with you._

He was the Supreme Leader, and Master of the Knights of Ren. He didn’t need a justification for his assignments. With a flick of his wrist, he unlocked the door to his office and resumed reading over the assignments of the Knights, trying to sort out what they had been doing and why.

But he kept circling back to Rey. _Damn this girl._ He should call her back, beg her forgiveness. She would give it to him without reservation, because she was Light and hope and peace and _love_. And he would spend the rest of his life proving to her that he was Darkness and fear and destruction and _hatred_ , despite all he wanted to be different. Truth would out.

Kylo should tell her to run. But his selfishness would win every day. Rey should run. But she wouldn’t. And he couldn’t let her go.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning - referenced self harm

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

For the next thirteen hours, Kylo existed in a prison of his own making. Rey hadn’t shut her side of the Bond – at least not completely. Although he could still sense her general well-being, she was actively suppressing any further information.

He supposed he deserved that.

In fact, knowing she kept her side open just enough so he wouldn’t worry was already far more than he deserved.

It had continued to be a long and busy day, full of distractions, which had passed by in an angry blur. Kylo felt more in control of himself than he had in a long time, and had gotten through much of the backlog of work that he has created for himself over the last week and a half. It was easier without the distraction of _her_. Hux had nearly been beside himself with joy when Kylo returned the large list of previously-unread reports signed off. It was strange to see genuine appreciation from the ginger menace. Maybe the way into his shriveled-up heart really _was_ paperwork.

But now, it was nearly midnight, and Kylo was straight out of the ‘fresher with damp hair. There was nothing left to be done today. Nothing except wallow in self-loathing, that was.

He landed ungracefully on his chair and tapped the darkened screen of his datapad. Still no message from the Monk regarding a successful pickup. Growling in irritation, he shut the ‘pad off, carding his hands through his wet hair in useless frustration.

He supposed he could ask Rey what was going on. He thought about it _really hard_ for all of fifteen seconds before he realized that she was going to need some sort of apology to go along with his question.

That wasn’t going to happen. He was terrible at apologies. He would somehow manage to dig his grave deeper.

She wouldn’t want to hear from him anyway.

Hell, _he_ didn’t even want to listen to himself right now.

Instead of continuing to brood, Kylo sent for a droid. There was still the matter of where Rey would stay - if she even still wanted to stay on the Supremacy with him. She needed a room. The old admonition that “Actions were louder than words” rang in his ears – this, he could do.

He’d find her a nice room, a nice space to call hers, with nice things in it. Not the belly of a broken AT-AT. Not a borrowed grass-filled pallet in a cold rock room. Not a pullout bunk in the Falcon in the same room as a snoring, furry alien. _Hers_.

The insidious thought that _he_ had quite a nice and also rather large room flitted in and out of his mind before he batted it away. No. Rey needed her _own_ space. If only so she had somewhere to get away from him.

She wouldn’t stay with him, anyway.

Kylo pulled up a schematic of the Supremacy, looking for a suitable location. A nice room, large but not overly large - no need to attract attention. With a ‘fresher. And a window. And because his traitorous heart still beat in his chest - it needed to be somewhere close to _him_.

It seemed that there was an empty room at the other end of his hallway that would suit - but he wanted to see it for himself. Hard to tell how a room really felt from lines on a hologram. Star Destroyers tended to be gloomy places under the best of circumstances - he didn’t want her room to be gloomy. She wasn’t gloomy – she was anything but gloomy.

A small tap-tapping on the door roused him from his thoughts - it must be the droid. That was rather quick. Kylo pulled on a clean tunic and opened the door barefaced, not bothering with the cumbersome mask. He worried less about the droids seeing him without it - after all, their memories could be wiped.

A protocol droid stood in the doorway, looking a bit confused. “J2-SN here, Supreme Leader, as you requested. How may I assist?”

“I’m in need of a room refitted for a... valued guest. A long-term guest, arriving tomorrow. Follow me.” Kylo grimaced internally at his optimistic words before he strode barefoot out of his quarters. It was only a few meters down the hall to the room he had identified.

“Open this.” He said shortly. The droid complied obediently, and the door whooshed open. Kylo could have done it himself, of course, but it felt strange not asking the droid as it stood there expectantly.

It was a nice room – small, but not cramped. The term cozy came to mind. It appeared to be a mid-level officer’s room - not something that would arouse suspicion if Rey were to take it over. The walls were the standard dark grey paneling - not much to be done about that. There was a large bed, a low dresser and mirror against the far wall, and a small bench placed at the foot of the bed. A door to the right lead to a small but serviceable ‘fresher, with a nicely sized sink and counter.

And a large window over the bed let in the starlight. The room was bathed in it, adding an air of ethereal to the bland furniture and bedcoverings. The blue light turned the room into something nearly otherworldly – mysterious. Large windows like this one were rare, especially in mid-level quarters.

Yes - this could be Rey’s space. Kylo turned to the droid, who hovered expectantly in the doorway. “I need this room cleaned up, with new linens on the bed in warm colors. Make sure the ‘fresher is equipped with toiletries. The nice ones, not the standard issue.” He paused, turning back toward the large window again as a thought stirred to life. “And - if we have any... plants...”

“Oh, yes sir, we do keep a variety of plant life on board. Would you like to select something specifically?” J2-SN seemed quite happy with this assignment, if such a statement could be made about a metal construct with an expressionless face. Great - he was good at pleasing droids and ginger generals. Just totally hopeless with scavenger girls.

And seriously - the Star Destroyer had a plant nursery?

“No. I would only - no. Just make sure there’s several of them. Handle it, J2-SN. You have free reign. I need this completed before 0600 tomorrow.”

“Oh, infinitely possible sir. I shall alert you when the room is prepared.” Without further ado, the droid waddled off down the hallway, muttering under his breath about blooms versus ferns versus pot-trees before Kylo tuned him out. He was confident that Rey’s room was going to resemble a forest before that droid was done.

Even if the Monk had picked up Rey in the last few moments, it would take nearly eight hours before they would reach the Supremacy - and that was if they left directly. And who is to say they wouldn’t make some sort of on-world stop before dusting off.

The Monk would, if he’d ever give a frakking mission update.

Or Rey could, if he hadn’t been an asshole to her.

Kylo thumped back down the hallway, somewhat less dramatically while barefoot and lacking his usual attire. It was late, and his floor was largely unoccupied, so the risk was low that he would be spotted. At least his frequent fits of temper had been good for one thing - securing his privacy. No one wanted to be on the same floor as a loose cannon.

Upon returning to his room, he wandered over and tapped the datapad again. No new message flashed across his screen.

Fuck.

What in the farking hell could be keeping the Monk? Kylo couldn’t send him a message in askance and risk giving away the fact that Rey was Something Important, instead of a blip in the radar that required fetching. Kylo Ren could trust the Monk. Ben Solo could not.

The urge to destroy something itched in his fingertips as the Dark coiled in between his shoulder blades. Kylo wasn’t going to give in this time. Hadn’t the destruction of the peace between himself and Rey been enough for one day? Adding a wall or a desk or a computer terminal to that list wasn’t going to help. He spotted his saber hilt on the desk and quickly averted his eyes to resist the temptation to ignite it, to give in to the carnal pull of the Dark.

 _Monster_ , it whispered in his ear, igniting his guilt and fueling the smoldering burn of his shame. _You destroy everything you touch. You actually dare to think you can keep her happy? She will grow to despise you, like everyone else has. Someday she will close your link and never open it again and you’ll be alone. Just like you deserve. You will never be redeemed. Murderer. Child killer. Monster._

The urge to destroy, to break, to give into the rage and let it burn him alive tensed the muscles in his back, his shoulders. It would be easy to let himself find release in the red crackle of his lightsaber. He could better cope. He could -

Kylo dug under his bed again, yanking out the old box and the sheaf of paper. Maybe writing would make the itchiness go away, stay the impulse for destruction, quiet the voice. He was willing to try anything.

He wanted to be better.

So, he wrote. First the alphabet, over and over till his lines were straight and the downward strokes were confident moves instead of hesitant flickers. Then, the Sith code from memory, but that didn’t feel quite right so he wrote what he could remember of the Jedi code. It wasn’t much.

_Murderer. Child killer._

He had filled five of his precious pieces of paper, and still felt the need to _mark_ something. He looked at the walls, his chair, the computer terminal. Kylo didn’t want to destroy them. Too many questions.

 _Worthless_.

His bare forearms called to him, the pale skin striped with faint lines of past scars. He didn’t want to add another sharp red line to the collection, no matter how good it felt to feel the blood rise up, to run down his arm and collect in the crook of his elbow. No more destruction. It was over.

He was different.

So instead, Kylo took his pen to his own flesh. The soft tip tickled the sensitive skin inside of his arm, causing the letters to gain back a little of their former wobbliness. Kylo wrote without a plan, without reason. He wrote the same character over and over again if he didn’t like the way it looked.

 _Monster_ , the darkness whispered. _You think you can beat me. I’ll always be with you. I’ve always been a part of you, and you can’t chase me away with simple tricks. I am you. I am your truest self._

Kylo ignored the voice as it continued to taunt him, echoing nastily in his ears. By the time he was done, his arm was covered with black ink. The stick-straight lines formed the word ‘monster’ over and over again, one repetition into the other. Towards his hand, they started to morph and blend into her name. Like some idiot lovesick fool.

He supposed he was.

Well, fuck.

He stared at his arm, watching the chrono idle into the small hours of the morning out of the corner of his eye. He was immobile for hours - not mediating, not sleeping, simply existing. The destructive impulse had fled, leaving only the ache of regret in his chest.

He was still halfway in this twilight when his datapad chimed softly. With his unmarked arm, Kylo tapped the screen to accept the message, hoping against hope that it was the Monk and they were underway, and all was fine.

Just J2-SN. Rey’s room was ready.

The chrono read 0457 as Kylo rose creakily from the floor by his bed. He stooped again to gather his pens and inks, carefully replacing them in their box and sliding it the bed. The little container of black ink was half empty, he noted with a pang of unhappiness. Perhaps he could find some more.

Then, barefoot and marked, with bloodshot eyes, he shuffled quietly down the hall to Rey’s room. A gentle tap on the door control gained him entrance, and he stepped inside to inspect the droid’s handiwork.

The bed was remade, with covers and sheets in a combination of a moss-green and deep cream. A warm looking blanket, green like the canopy of a deep and untouched forest, was folded neatly on the small bench. The door to the ‘fresher was cracked, and Kylo could see without entering the bottles of cleaners and soaps that matched the ones he himself was given. They were unscented by nature, and he filed that information away for later. Perhaps she would like ones that had a scent.

He didn’t even know what sort of scents she liked.

And most importantly, all over the room, were plants. A potted tree stood guard by the door. An overlarge fern sat on the lip of the window, almost spilling onto the bed. Kylo could even see some humidity-seeking plants on the counter in the ‘fresher. And on the low dresser, a large red Millaflower, a rare native of Naboo. Beautiful and calming, but deadly in the right circumstances.

Perhaps the droid knew more than he was letting on.

Kylo stood next to the door, hesitant to invade this space that he already thought of as _hers_. He wouldn’t taint this ground.

The starlight flooding the room washed over his bare arms, highlighting the stark black letters on his pale skin. A monument to weakness. He should probably wash these off before someone important noticed.

He probably looked like he was going insane.

Maybe he was.

Kylo quietly left Rey’s room, stepping very softly now that some of the shifts were beginning to switch over. No reason to call attention to himself. Oh, just the Supreme Leader, covered in handwriting, without his mask, barefoot and essentially in his pajamas. Nothing to see here.

Once back in his room, Kylo sent a commendation to the droid’s file for a job well done - and speedily so. Then, a request for the Monk’s old quarters to be made ready. No special requests there. That done, Kylo padded into the ‘fresher, set on erasing the marks from his arm.

He didn’t hear the soft chime of his datapad over the running water as he scrubbed his skin red and raw.

_Master - on our way. Only a minor incident. Girl unharmed. Will arrive on Supremacy in seven hours. This girl is curious._

Even when Kylo read the report moments later as water dripped from his arm to the floor, he failed the catch the double meaning of his Monk’s last words. Instead, he switched the ‘pad off and flopped on the bed, suddenly exhausted.

An hour or two of sleep was all he could afford, but perhaps it would chase the lines from his face. Seven more hours. It was nearly 0530 now. Midday, she would be here.

He had to think of something to say by midday.

He closed his eyes, but as he drifted away all he could see was _Rey_.


	20. Chapter 20

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

It was 1230 exactly when Kylo Ren strode into the hangar bay, mercifully alone. The Monk’s ship had yet to touch down, but the bridge had been alerted to his arrival. They would land in the bay any minute now. He still didn’t know what to say, how to play this - either with Rey, or the First Order. He had an idea - a small, tiny, spark of an idea - but he was not at all confident how Rey would feel about it.

 Or, honestly, about him.

 Staring out of the large hangar bay into the blackness of space, he watched the grey flicker of the ship materialize against the stars.

 Time’s up.

 Before he was ready, the small shuttle touched down in the hangar bay with a clank. The hatch popped with a hiss of steam, and down the gangway strode the Monk. He was much the same as Kylo remembered him - dressed in all black, a heavy outer robe giving credence to his chosen name. A small silvery cartouche thumped against his chest with each heavy step, his boots clanking along the steel floor. The deaths-head mask made him resemble the reaper itself. Kylo had always been a bit jealous of the gravitas of his costume - his own never quite seemed to match it.

 The Monk stepped towards him confidently, extending his right arm to Kylo for the customary greeting. “Hail, Master and Supreme Leader.” Kylo grasped the Monk’s forearm as his own was grasped in the same manner, an ancient embrace.

“Well met, Knight of Ren. Your Master is pleased with your return.” The formality of their greeting was oddly comforting. Rote. Expected.

The Monk released his arm, moving to stand to Kylo’s left. They both turned to face the small shuttle as Rey lingered in the hatchway. She was still heavily shielding her feelings from Kylo, but he could feel the fear leaking out despite her best intentions.

She was wearing the same clothing that she had been in the y-wing - a tattered, raggedy mess. Her leggings and tunic had been torn from scraping along rocks and stained with blood both from herself and Chewbacca. The shoulder of her tunic was torn open, exposing the Bacta patch she still wore. The pack was slung over her other shoulder, heavy and bulging. His old boots, scuffed and worn, thudded down the gangplank as Rey made her way into the hanger, and he allowed himself a smile behind his mask.

When he looked at her face, however, that smile quickly evaporated. A large purple bruise circled her right eye, and an angry red welt bisected her cheek. Her hair made a wild, tangled halo around her face, framing her wounds in soft brunette frizz. Stiffening, he filled with anger at whomever had dared to touch her. Without his conscious instruction, his long fingers twitched for the hilt of his saber, but he stilled himself at the last moment.

Instead, Kylo turned to the Monk. “What. Happened. To the girl.” The words were ground out harshly through gritted teeth, anger bubbling up around him. The leather of his gloves creaked under the pressure of the clenched fists they contained.

The Monk backed up a pace, well versed in his master’s temper. “She was like this when I found her, Master. She wouldn’t tell me what happened.” The Monk was almost, but not quite, whining.

“I’m fine.” Rey said somewhat imperiously as she strode towards them, standing not by Kylo but to the other side of the Monk. “I saw some lowlifes abusing a child. I intervened. That’s all.”

The Monk tugged on the cartouche in annoyance. “Would it have been so difficult to tell me that one of the seven times I asked, instead of just pointing at the two people hanging from the ceiling by their feet?” The Knight was clearly exasperated. Kylo didn’t need to see his face to know that he was rolling his eyes behind the mask.

Rey crossed her arms and glared. “I would have told you if you’d just taken off the mask. I didn’t trust you.”

“Oh, but now you trust me? The mask is still on.”

“Well, I know you better now.”

“You don’t know me, we rode in a shuttle together for seven hours. In near total silence.”

“Well, forgive me for not immediately trusting the man who grabs me by my elbow and drags me out of a building without so much as a greeting. You make a lousy first impression.”

“You were in the middle of a firefight, I was supposed to bring you back safe, I was making you safe. You’re welcome.”

 _Force. “_ Enough!” Kylo barked, the vocorder making his annoyance seem even stronger. “Knight, report to your quarters. I expect you to comport yourself with dignity in the future. You will be summoned for a debrief later this evening.” The Monk looked away from Rey to face his Master, inclining his head obsequiously.

“You, with me.” He pointed at Rey, who stiffened at being ordered around like an underling. “There is much to discuss.” Rey opened her mouth to retort but seems to think better of it. Quieting as the Monk had, her footfalls fell in step behind Kylo as he stomped away. She was still shielding from him, but he was gratified to feel that her leaking fear had been replaced with a simmering annoyance. At him? At the Monk? Who knew.

All he knew was this wasn’t exactly going how he expected. Though - he hadn’t really known what to expect.

He felt the eyes of the Monk bore holes in his back until the doors of the lift closed. The curiosity and mistrust that he read from his Knight simmered.

They rode to his quarters in silence. As soon as they were through the door, however, Rey set her pack on the floor and rounded on him before he even had a chance to lock the panel. Anger and hostility filled the air around her, the Force crackled with her irritation. Hazel eyes were snapping with annoyance, and her ordinarily soft mouth was a hard, thin line.

“That man is insufferable. You know he literally just grabbed me and dragged me out of the cantina like I was a little girl, or a stray dog, or something?” She stomped her foot for emphasis, her tangled hair bouncing as she did so.

Oh, so the anger wasn’t for him, then. Noted.

Kylo inclined his head and leaned against the wall, not removing his mask. He stood silently, a defense stemming from a combination of not knowing what to say and being a small bit intimidated by Rey’s verbal onslaught. She looked like a half-wild thing, with her hair snarled and clothes askew.

“He wouldn’t tell me anything or confirm anything - and by the way, ‘you’ll know him when you see him’ is not _quite_ enough identification, for future reference. I did not ‘know him when I saw him.’ A stranger grabbed my arm and dragged me off without so much as an introduction _and then_ he just expected me to get in the shuttle with him and _leave_ but I wasn’t doing that so I ran off and -”

 _Maker_. Kylo blinked, clearing his fuzzy thoughts. “Rey... why didn’t you just... ask me?”

Rey stopped her diatribe and closed her mouth with a snap. She suddenly looked sad, and small. “You were angry, and I was afraid. I was trying to give you some time.”

Kylo felt her words like a punch in the gut. It was an awful risk for her to come, to place her trust not only in him but in a strange man she’d never met. And he’d gone and actively made it harder. The word ‘sorry’ burned on his tongue, but he couldn’t force his mouth to move and say it.

Instead, he looked away, ashamed. Rey fiddled with the torn shoulder of her tunic and the edge of the Bacta patch, which must surely be depleted by now.

 _Maybe you should go get her the medkit, asshole._ Without a word, Kylo disappeared into the ‘fresher, rummaging around in the drawer till he found the small box full of Bacta patches and salve. He thrust it at her awkwardly. “For your shoulder. And your, um - face.” _Smooth_. _Next thing you know she’s going to be throwing herself into your arms._

Rey smiled up at him, just the corner of her mouth twitching upward for a second. “Thanks. I’m thinking this one has had it.” She grit her teeth and with one swift pull, freed the sticky patch from her skin.

The wound underneath was knitting together, but still raw and red. Kylo winced along with Rey as she poked it gently and shrugged. “Had worse. It actually looks much better than I figured from how much it smarts.”

“What do you mean, you’ve had worse?” He scowled under the mask, forgetting for a moment that she couldn’t see the expression. It was a good thing she couldn’t, because when Rey nonchalantly yanked up the side of her tunic Kylo’s entire face turned beet red. 

Rey was pointing at an angry red line that ran from her belly to the middle of her back. The flesh was ropy and twisted, and he sensed this was an old wound even if the scar still looked fresh. “Fell in a Destroyer - badly. Sliced myself almost clean open. I figured I was done for - it was a very long way down. I was very lucky there was another scavenger close by who wasn’t completely heartless. She sped me back to Unkar Plutt and he got me stitched up. Said I was worth more to him alive than dead.” Her fingers traced the scar for a moment, then she lowered the tunic to cover it once more. “I still think that’s the closest I’ve ever come to dying.”

Kylo had no words for that. The maps of his own scars, down his arms, across his back, the still-tetchy wound in his belly from the bowcaster, all called to him with their own stories. Maybe someday he would share them with her, as well.

But instead of baring his soul, he pulled a fresh Bacta patch from the kit. It was the work of moments to remove his gloves and break the seal of the wrapping to affix it to her skin. Gently, softly - as little pressure as possible so as not to disturb the healing tissue any more than necessary. She was warm under his fingertips, and he burned in response.

Rey raised her head to look at him and blinked in surprise. “Ben - you’re still wearing your mask.” She said this as if it was the first time she’d noticed it, which was impossible. The growl of the vocoder alone would give it away to a blind man.

The scavenger girl stepped closer, so close that he could see the faint worry lines on her forehead, the small freckles across her nose and cheeks from her life spent under the desert sun. Kylo remained frozen in place, looking at the hazel eyes of his bondmate through the amber lens of his mask. She raised her hands hesitantly, not breaking eye contact with him. “May I?”

“Yes.” Of bloody course she could. He was powerless against her. His particular brand of drug came packaged in the form of a brown-haired girl. Emotions still ran high from his night spent battling back the Dark - he was vulnerable to her. In truth, in some ways he always was.

As she felt for the release, Kylo could feel her warm fingers brush his neck, lighting a fire than ran down to his toes even as it raised gooseflesh on his skin. He kept his hands pinned at his side, for fear of what they would do if he allowed them to move. As it was, the remembrance of the softness of her skin played itself over and over in his memory. There was no telling what fires would ignite if that feeling became a reality under his hands once more.

Self-control was not one of his strengths.

Rey found the catch, gently pulling upward and allowing the mask to unlock. “I hate that you _lock_ yourself in this... thing.” Her whisper ghosted across the now-exposed skin of his neck, prickles rising on his arms in response. Maker, she had to be trying to kill him. The loveliest assassin.

Kylo could sense her standing on her toes to match his height, the leather of his old boots groaning as she stretched to remove the heavy mask the rest of the way. He bowed his head in an attempt to make the task easier.

She made short work of the rest, then Kylo was barefaced before her, watching in fascination as she cradled the heavy mask against her belly. A lovely, sunny smile split her face, lighting up her eyes and crinkling the corners of them. “There you are, Ben.” She looked at him with earnest, clear eyes. No anger or guile lurked in her expression. Just Light. And hope. And _love_.

It was so much more than he deserved.

He realized then that she had stopped shielding, and he could feel her fully once more. She was _nervous_. Worried she had gone too far. Worried that he’d make her leave.

Didn’t she know him at all?

Kylo took a small step closer to Rey, reaching down to the medkit again and selecting a small tube of salve. The wounds and bruises on her face were not severe - no stitches required. He popped the cap with his thumb, squeezing a small amount of gel to his fingertips before gently raising his hand to Rey’s face. He tried not to think about the high flush in her cheeks, or the way her breathing was coming in short, shallow pants between parted lips. His heartbeat thudded in his ears, echoing her own.

“May I?”

She swallowed and nodded, apparently unable to speak, but never breaking eye contact. He gently smoothed his salve covered fingers over the nasty bruise around her eye, the red raised skin across her cheek. They both faded almost immediately - not quite gone, but surely less noticeable. He dropped his hand back to his side, allowing the salve to fade in as he stepped back to admire his handiwork.

But Rey stepped forward, setting his mask down carefully on the bed as she did. She was _so close._ “Thank you.” Her voice was soft, hesitant even. The air around them was thick, and Kylo was choking on it. Each breath was a struggle to stop inhaling the scent of _her_.

Rey took a final step forward, before she leaned in, quickly wrapping her wiry arms around his torso and laying her head against his chest. Kylo raised his arms in the air in surprise, hovering a few inches over her back. When she made no move to release him, he closed his arms around her slowly, awkwardly, but without any true hesitation. He hadn’t been hugged by anyone since he was a young boy, standing on a landing platform ready to head to the Jedi temple with Uncle Luke.

Rey’s hug was nothing like his mother’s had been.

She was warm - it like holding a sun. Her fingers were tracing small circles on the back of his surcoat, the thump-thump of her heartbeat felt strange pressed close against his stomach. All her complex emotions threatened to drown him, and Kylo allowed himself the luxury of sorting through them. The hope and belonging she projected were easy to categorize, though they were ones he was unaccustomed to feeling on his own. The heavy weight settling in his chest, however – that one was harder.

With a start, the knowledge clicked into place.

Love. It was love. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore – that was the deep feeling she elicited in the pit of his stomach, an echo of the warm blanket that wrapped around her own mind. She exuded it unconsciously – even if she were aware of it, Kylo doubted that she could stop it’s crossing over to him.

She gave him so much that he didn’t deserve. Not a monster like him.

Even over the catalogue of her strong feelings, one thing sang above the undercurrent of her unconscious mind. A single word - a feeling he hadn’t felt since he was a small boy. _Home_. She was home. Her home was with _him_.

Even after he pushed her away. Scared her. She knew his darkness and still she called him _home_. She was home. _My home._

He tightened his arms around her as much as he dared, bowing his head to bury his nose in her tangled hair. She smelled like sunlight and salt; the ghost of Ahch-To. He smiled against her head, where she couldn’t see the unguarded emotion.

She loved him.

He was terrified.

Now – oh now, there was so much for him to lose.

But the Bond between them purred, contented and balanced.

Kylo could have held Rey for hours, days even - but it wasn’t in the cards. A tap-tap-tap at the door startled them both. Kylo jumped, snatching his mask from the bed and quickly relatching it. He jammed his gloves back on his hands as Rey grabbed her bag and slid into the ‘fresher to hide. He waited till she latched the door behind her before throwing open his own.

Hux.

He was oddly polite - perhaps he was still riding the high of completed paperwork from yesterday. “Supreme Leader, apologies. A situation as arisen, and action is required. Your presence is needed on the bridge.”

 _Fuck_. Kylo groaned internally. That conversation with Rey was going to have to wait.

 _“_ Thank you, General.” No Armitage today - no need to be deliberately provoking if the man wasn’t going to be an asshole - “I’ll be up directly.”

Hux narrowed his eyes slightly but nodded his head before turning towards the lift bay. It was the most pleasant interaction Kylo had had with the man in years.  He watched the General’s lift leave before shutting the door again - he didn’t want Hux to know Rey was here - not yet. Not till she agreed on a plan.

“It’s safe.” The vocoder made his speech gravelly again, but there was no sense in taking it off. He was just going to march up to the bridge and play Supreme Leader in a few minutes. The spell was broken.

Rey slid open the ‘fresher door and stepped out. “I heard. Go. Do you want me to wait here?”

 _Fuck yes, I do. “_ No, I - come with me.” He waited patiently for her to gather her pack, then opened his main door again. She was close on his heels as he walked the few short steps down the hallway to her room. Kylo turned around when he reached the door and held out his hand, palm up. Rey put her own in his without hesitation, hazel eyes full of trust.

He could have just told her how to recode the lock to herself, but instead he guided her hand through the process. He just wanted to touch her - even if his thick gloves were between them. Who knows how long it would be before the situation upstairs was resolved. He hadn’t quite thought about what torture it would be to have her here, on his ship, but unable to see her.

“There. Now this is yours, and it will admit no one but you.” _You are safe. Even from me. “_ Go on. I’ll come back as soon as I can. I overlooked obtaining you a datapad - I’ll remedy that tonight. I’ll also order some dinner sent to you - I know a trustworthy droid. We can talk about a plan tonight.”

Rey smiled at him brightly. “Over that drink.” She brushed her hand along the side of his helmet, and Kylo wished he could have just taken the damn thing off. “I’ll be here.” Smiling fading, she disappeared inside the door, and Kylo watched it slide shut behind her. He didn’t want to see her reaction in case the room wasn’t to her liking. He could always fix it later.

He turned and strode towards the lift, trying to put away thoughts of Rey to become the Supreme Leader again. But she was embedded in his heart, her Light hard to chase away.

 _Concentrate_. The voice of his father echoed in his memory as the lift sped him upwards.


	21. Chapter 21

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Rey listened to the heavy thump of Ben’s boots as they receded down the hallway, and the whoosh of the lift which carried him away. Only then did she allow herself to turn and see the room - _her_ room - that he had prepared for her.

It was more than she had ever expected. The first thing Rey noticed was just how green everything was - the plant life scattered around her room made the air seem cleaner, somehow. Less like the stale recycled air that by necessity populated all starships. The leaves of the large potted tree between the exterior door and the door to the ‘fresher brushed against her head as Rey moved to walk around the room. Her room. Her _own_ room.  

She’d never had a room as nice as this in her life. Warm-looking sheets and blankets on the bed - an even larger, thick blanket at the foot, their green and cream shades accentuating the greenery placed all over. A large window was situated over her bed, casting the room in starlight broken only by the skinny leaves of the plant placed on the ledge. A dresser and a closet - a place for her own things. Her own ‘fresher.

Oh - a ‘fresher!

Rey tossed her pack on the bed and practically scrambled for the door. She needed a good scrub like nothing else in this world – Rey was pretty sure she smelled like dead fish and the coppery tang of blood. Regardless, the clothes had to go, and she wasn’t going to put on her nice new things while feeling this dirty.

Twisting the knobs in the ‘fresher to get the space warmed up, she studied herself in the mirror of the small room. She anxiously fiddled with a leaf on the beautiful plant that sat on the counter, accidentally breaking it off. Studying the torn leaf in her palm, she scowled, recalling the last time she had a hot shower - aboard the Raddus, before she had even told General Organa the whole story. Before the Bond was fixed. Before - _everything_. Rey didn’t look much different, but she certainly felt different.

Steam filled the room, beginning to obscure the mirror. She examined herself in the last clear space of glass as she gingerly touched the now-faded bruise around her eye, and the streaky pink line of the welt she received from the slaver’s whip. The echoes of Ben’s fingers ghosted across her skin, sending a pang through her heart.

She should have done it. Should have kissed him like the tug in her stomach had told her to, ran her fingers through his dark hair like they ached to. But Rey was afraid.

She didn’t need to hear the words to know just how sorry he was for his anger at her the last time they had talked - the waves of his remorse had threatened to drown her, contained in pleading eyes that both threatened and adored. It wasn’t that which kept her from action. It was her own uncertainty. She had just sorted herself out - why should she muddle things further than they already were? Sometimes, however, things didn’t feel so mixed up. Nothing felt confusing about the relief that had rolled off Ben as she stepped off the shuttle. Of the softness of his touch as he had applied that damn salve. Of the way he held her as if he was afraid she would vanish.

Rey sighed, stepping back from the mirror as steam swallowed the last of the clear space. The water was probably ready.  

She removed her boots and took the strange silver box of Master Luke’s from her pocket, along with the pin from Leia’s hair and placing them together on the counter. She removed the red crystal necklace as an afterthought, stepping into the shower otherwise fully clothed. All the things she was wearing were also in need of a good wash. It didn’t occur to her until she was already fully soaked that the ship likely had a laundry service - but perhaps tattered rags would raise too many questions in the sea of grey uniforms. Safer to just handle it herself.

Regardless, she squished the water out of her socks and hung them over the door to drip. Her tunic and leggings soon followed, till she finally felt the hot water wash over all of her skin. It was marvelous. She stood in the spray for a long time, eyes closed, letting the hot water rinse away the visible grime from her living nightmare.

She located a large bottle of soap and scrubbed till her skin was pink and her hair squeaked when she ran her fingers through it, then tangled mass straightening to its regular appearance. Even after the soap suds had vanished down the drain, she stayed in the warm jets of the shower, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. Her thoughts returned to this mysterious crisis, and she wondered what was happening - and if any of her friends were involved.

_No. Can’t think like that. You can’t help them now. They are smart. They are capable. They can take care of themselves._ Rey saw Finn and Poe in her mind’s eye, Poe behind the controls of the Falcon and Finn at the gunner’s position. Poe was whooping, but the lines on his face betrayed his concentration in the face of his enthusiasm. Finn seemed scared - but that was fairly normal. Finn, for all his stormtrooper training, was not a natural fighter, his anxiety writ plain. Rose sat beside Poe in the co-pilots chair, spotting additional attack ships and calling them out. Rey felt a pang - that was Chewbacca’s seat. His ship. He should be there too.

But he wasn’t. And maybe never would be again.

And it was her fault.

Rey flung that thought far, far away as she turned off the taps in the ‘fresher, the warm water no longer comforting. Here she was, sat in the most comfortable room she ever had in her life, while her friends were in trouble. Rey knew she couldn’t go to them, but it didn’t make the ache in her chest any better. She couldn’t find them - and even if she did, her presence would only put them in further jeopardy from the other half of the Resistance.

She roughly dried off in one of the lovely, fluffy towels before setting it under her dripping clothes to catch the water they cast off. Wet feet smacked the floor softly and she ran to the other room, quickly pulling out her new clothes before she froze to death.

She had the outfit Chewie had provided for her, similar to the one she had been wearing. Leggings and a tunic, both in shades of tan and grey, as well as her beloved brown poncho, which still made a smile flit across her face despite the gloom that hung over her. Then, there was the robe she had bought for herself on Malastare.

Rey had wanted to have an actual change of clothes - a luxury to her, but a necessity to most people. When it became apparent that she would not have to be on the run forever, the ration bars Chewie had packed for her became a commodity that could be traded away fairly easily in the market. Before she had even sought out the cantina, she had wandered into the trader’s area. Swapping the bars for her new robe was a quick matter - selling the y-wing another one entirely.

Rey eyed the large stash of credits in the bottom of her pack warily - it still felt like a betrayal, but she had wiped the ship’s computer of all sensitive information before handing it over to its new owner. Otherwise, the ship would just be sitting there, rotting away. Perhaps these credits would allow her to help her friends. She rationalized it that way.

Shaking her head to clear it, Rey decided to wear her new robe. It was long, with sleeves down to her wrists and full skirt in a light dove-grey color. It was roughspun, but thick and should keep her quite warm even in the coldness of space. It was quick work to wiggle into the soft inner robe, this layer softer against her skin than the deep grey outer cloak she shrugged in next. The metal clasp fell against her clavicle after it was fastened, the robes swishing around her legs in a satisfying manner.

As an afterthought, she ducked back into the ‘fresher to retrieve the crystal pendant, tucking it against her skin under the inner robe.  

Rey’s sat on the edge of her bed, sighing as her thoughts drifted back into the melancholy. Worry over whatever was happening on the bridge ate at her. She looked out the window - no signs of a space battle or evasive maneuvers or anything like that. Not in the distance, not up close. She sat watching the stars for quite some time, wondering.

Maybe what she had just seen of her friends was conjecture. Or perhaps they weren’t even battling the First Order - maybe it was something else. Rey brushed Ben’s mind anxiously, hoping for some reassurance from him or at least an explanation. But his side of the Bond was shut tight - it always was when he was wearing the guise of the Supreme Leader in public, even when she wasn’t simply a few floors away instead of star systems apart.

But she was not helpless. She had the Force.

Rey crawled on the middle of her bed, somewhat awkwardly navigating her long skirts as she sat tailor-fashion. She reached out for the Force, and it leapt to her willingly and cradled her in the feeling of belonging. Rey allowed herself to simply drift for a while, communing with the Force in a way she had not had the luxury of in quite some time. She felt herself grow calmer, more centered. More sure of the path that she had put herself on than ever before. She was right where the Force wanted her - even if that wasn’t with her friends.

After a while, Rey reached out for Master Luke’s connection to the Force. Perhaps she could make him sense her this time. She wanted to grant him some assurance that she was alright - that she had made it off the island. And perhaps receive some assurance of her own.

She found Luke quickly, as his connection was open and blazing in a way it likely hadn’t in decades. Rey was nearly knocked off kilter by the intensity of it. The quality of it, though - that had changed. Anger. So much anger. And _fear_. The Dark band inside his Light was getting stronger, and it frightened her.

_Master! Master Luke! Please hear me._ Rey stretched out her hand to his presence, only for it to slip away further than her reach. She tried again, and again, and again. No success. _Master Luke, please!_ Rey used all her strength, leveraging her own Force connection, to reach for him. _Please_! She thought, for a moment, that he felt her then. His connection wavered as if disturbed by something – a curious flicker, if something like that could be said of an ephemeral thing such as this. _Master Luke!_ Every fiber of her being strained, urging him to hear her.

Nothing. Still he slipped from her fingers. Despairingly, Rey searched for General Organa, hoping to find her as easily as she had Luke. And Rey’s suspicion was right – Leia’s connection was open and blazing, but a riot of righteous indigitation. None of the General’s usual steadfast calm remained.

_What the fuck is happening?_ If only she could do project herself like Luke had, maybe then she could get a sense for what was happening. The Force whispered in her ear, using the voice of her Master. _Look to the old knowledge_.

Of course - the sacred texts. Rey flung herself from her mediation a little too quickly for comfort, her stomach giving a lurch as she was brought back into her body. Grabbing the strap of her pack, she drug it across the bed towards her, practically ripping it open to pull out the ancient books that she had so haphazardly thrown in. The bottle of expensive whiskey popped out as well, bouncing once on the bed before coming to a stop well before the edge.

Rey cracked the first book and began reading. There was no index, no way of finding exactly where the knowledge of this ability was located, so she just had to _read_.

The hours passed, and still Rey kept on, moving through one book and onto the second one. The ship’s cycle slipped into the evening hours, the light quality dimming slightly to compensate for the artificial night that was to come. Her room became more filled with starlight than the artificial ship’s light, casting an ethereal glow on the ancient papers beneath her hands.

Another hour passed, and Rey was lightly roused from her meditative state by a small droid bearing dinner. It wasn’t a large meal - some sort of roasted hen and an unknown vegetable - but it was delicious. She didn’t touch the blue-green milk that was sent along with it but cracked a small smile at what had to be a joke from Ben.

Rey sat cross legged on the bed, sneaking bites of food in between page turns, when she saw it. Not the knowledge she sought, but what she needed. It was an illustration of the large mosaic that decorated the floor of the ancient temple Ahch-To. She must have stepped over those black and white pebbles a hundred times without truly noticing them. It was the description that caught her eye, written in tiny Aurebesh characters with what must have been the finest tipped brush-pens.

“ _The Prime Jedi. The first Jedi, shown meditating in the balance of the Force.”_

The balance of the Force. Light and Dark together, not one over the other but working in tandem. Rey kept reading, excitement making her heart beat faster. The Force has been goading her on - it had _wanted_ her to find this. Unfortunately, that was all the information provided on the Prime Jedi, as the text then launched into a description of the initial rules of the Jedi Order, which it appeared that the Prime Jedi didn’t actually start.  

Rey sat back on her heels, the initial reason for her frantic reading of the ancient books pushed to one side of her mind as she digested the small snippet of information she had been given.

A balance in the Force. Light and Dark together, coexisting, not a suppression of one in favor of embracing the other. And under her nose the whole time.

A tapping at her door startled her, nearly causing her to spill the remains of her dinner. A glance at the chrono told her it was nearly 2100 ships time - not terribly late, but later than she anticipated. Rey carefully crawled off the bed, setting the food tray on the bench at its foot before she opened the door.

A very haggard looking Ben Solo loomed in the doorway, mask already off and held down by his side. He stared blankly her, and she smiled back up at him. Rey thought she had almost seen the corner of his mouth twitch upwards, but the action was quickly covered by a clearing of his throat.

“Rey.” Had his voice trembled, or was it her imagination?

Rey smiled in a way she hoped was welcoming – she had not much practice in these matters. “Hello yourself. You coming in, or are you going to haunt my doorway till some passerby discovers you?” Rey crossed her arms and tilted an eyebrow skyward. If he was going to be awkward, at least she could try to make it normal. She stepped aside, gesturing inward. “Come on. I’ve got lots of nice plants to show off.”

That time, it wasn’t her imagination - there _was_ a ghost of a smile there _._ Ben stepped inside the threshold, and Rey closed and locked the door. The book on her bed was forgotten for the moment, closed and pushed aside for another day.


	22. Chapter 22

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Kylo stood in the center of Rey’s room, unsure where to put himself till she shoved aside some curious looking dusty tomes and patted the moss-green bedspread.

“Sit down - Maker, you’re _looming_. _”_

Kylo rolled his eyes and obeyed. Rey bustled around the room, nervously tidying the few things she had brought with her. He watched her in fascination - she was _cute_ when she was unsettled.

He sort of liked to be the one to unsettle her.

Rey’s hand twitched nervously, and she stilled them in the side-pocket of the robe she wore. “Thanks for, um - the room. It’s lovely. I’ve never had anything so nice. There’s so much green... hardly feels like space.” Rey flushed prettily, and she looked away, suddenly absorbed in the large red bloom on her dresser and no longer making eye contact with him.

_This girl is going to be the death of me._

_“_ It was no trouble.” Kylo fished about in his pocket for a moment, producing a datapad and holding it out to her. “This is also for you. It’s connected to the holonet and the ship’s internal traffic, so you can do almost anything. Just... don’t _do_ almost anything, because it’s monitored. It all is.”

Rey took the ‘pad from him and smiled. “I can order my own meals with this, right? Then no more blue milk for me.” She grinned and sat down on the bed next to him.

“Oh... I... I thought you _liked_ the blue milk.” Deadpan, with a tiny bit of hurt thrown in at the end. Kylo knew very well just how little she liked it, but given how cute that blush was...

Rey blanched, obviously thinking she had stepped in it. “Oh, well, I mean, it’s just -” and there it was again, rosy-pink and high on her cheeks. Mission accomplished. 

Kylo smirked - nothing so base as a smile. Only to put her back at ease of course, not because he enjoyed the banter.

Rey’s eyes narrowed as she realized she’d been played, and she smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “You nerf-herder.” She smiled at him again, and he tried not to wince as his mother’s voice echoed that same insult in his head.

They sat in silence on the edge of the bed for a moment, and Kylo took the opportunity to truly look at her. She was wearing new robes, in a style he hadn’t seen her wear before. They were long, brushing the ground when she walked. The sleeves were full and reached to the delicate bones of her wrists, and they looked quite warm despite being of poor quality. Kylo wondered where she has gotten them, but it felt strange to ask. They suited her, however, the soft grey color deepening her eyes and setting off her dark hair. She was lovely.

After a moment, Rey turned around and stretched for the discarded bottle of whiskey at the far corner of the bed. “I haven’t got glasses - I don’t think so anyways - but I owe you a drink. Have you got glasses?”

Kylo did indeed have glasses - lots of glasses down the hall in his room, nice ones. But his feet were rooted to the floor, so he just shook his head. Rey shrugged and uncorked the bottle, taking a shot and handing it off to him. “Your turn.”

Fuck. Now all he could think about were her fracking lips. _Should have gotten the glasses._ He took a swig to steady himself, hoping that it would be enough. This was much, much harder than he had anticipated. She was _here_. Truly here. And he was going to fuck it all up, like he did everything else.

May as well jump in with both feet. If she hated this idea for blending in, they’d have to think of another good one very quickly, and it wouldn’t be any easier if they were drunk.

“There’s one obvious answer to the problem of your being on board.” _Smooth_. “You could pose as a Knight of Ren. There have been up to seven, including the Master. We’re down to just six - five, if the Armory doesn’t check in soon, no one has heard from him in several weeks and his tracker is showing no data...” Kylo trailed off, suddenly lost in thought.

Rey frowned, her eyes narrowing. Kylo felt a small stab of disappointment. She must not like the plan. Before the gears in his mind could whirr to life in another direction, she spoke thoughtfully, her words measured.

“I’m assuming the Armory wore a mask, like you and the Monk do, right? Did you know what he looked like underneath it?”

 _Where’s she going with this? “_ All the Knights are masked, and in black. But yes, I do know what the Armory looks like. He was - with me. At the Jedi Academy. Him and the Monk both. The others joined us later.” _The less said about all of that, the better._

 _“_ Was this him?” Rey flashed a memory at him through the Bond, of a dark-haired man raising his blaster at her with fury in his eyes. It was just a glimpse - less than a second - but it was enough. Kylo’s eyes widened, and he took a steadying swig from the bottle and offered it back to Rey.

“Yes. It was.” His hair was darker, but it was hard to mistake his facial features. Small nose. Large, dark eyes. Pointed chin and broad cheekbones. How did had he missed identifying him in the moment? It was him. Undoubtedly. And he knew that grass, that sky, the angle of that blaster. It was Ahch-To.

“Maker. Oh _Maker_ , Ben, he was undercover in the Resistance?” Rey’s face was pale, and she accepted the bottle from him and took a long drink herself. “It was him. He almost killed me. Chewie.”

 _Chewbacca_. The memory stung, and Kylo was filled with anger towards his fallen Knight.

“You needn’t keep looking for him. He’s dead... Rose shot him. He went gunning for Master Luke after Chewie and I went down. Luke must have recognized him - he _had_ to have. Why didn’t he tell me?” Sadness and betrayal echoed in her voice, and the Bond. Feelings Kylo knew all too well, especially when regarding his uncle.

“Hard to say why he didn’t say something. It’s quite possible he _didn’t_ recognize him - David was one of the... younger ones. He had... changed a lot.” That was an understatement, to be sure. Kylo remembered the shy, sandy-haired boy who had admired his calligraphy set and struggled with a lightsaber. He always had preferred to use a blaster. David had become more and more twisted and dark in the intervening years, leaning further to the extremes. Kylo truly had no idea he had infiltrated the Resistance at such a level - his assignment had been on Coruscant.

“I didn’t know he had worked his way into the Resistance. I... haven’t been paying attention the way I should have. It’s likely that David thought he was protecting me, in some twisted way, by trying to kill you once the truth came out.” Kylo hung his head and stared at his hands. Another ball he had dropped, and now Chewbacca’s life hung in the balance and Rey had been shot. His fault.

 _Monster_. _Worthless_.

Rey took another drink and passed the bottle back to Ben. He gripped it loosely by the neck, not quite ready for the numbness of the alcohol to steal his self-loathing.

“I know what you’re thinking. And it’s not your fault.”

Kylo did take another drink then, not wanting to hear her absolution just yet. “It is. But currently that is beside the point. Clearly, I need to exercise better control over my Knights. What remains of them. I think we could use them, if not even eventually persuade them to see our side of things and join us. They owe no loyalty to the First Order. They were my creatures from the beginning.”

Rey sat silently for a moment, lost in thought. One finger twirled a strand of hair above her ear, and it took more willpower than Kylo liked to admit to keep him from tucking it back in place. “What are the others like?” She said, still staring off into space. It was hard to tell what she was thinking; even his feedback from the Bond was cloudy.

“You’ve met the Monk. The Sniper and the Rouge are a package deal - a team of two mercenaries who caught my eye on Corellia. They asked to join up. I’m not truly sure if they are related or just close. The Heavy is an... interesting case. He’s the newest, a twentysomething boy from some Maker-forsaken Outer Rim territory with low gravity. He’s incredibly strong as a result. None of the others are Force sensitive - just the Monk and myself, now.”

“What is the Monk’s real name?”

A young man appeared in Kylo’s mind, dark-haired and smiling. A bookish and slightly pudgy boy, who wielded the Force best when it came to persuasion and illusion. His only true friend at the Academy. “Gareth. Mostly just called him Reth... he hated his name.” A flash of ignited sabers in his mind’s eye, and he saw Reth striking down one of their fellow students. Kylo quickly shut that memory away, unwilling to relive that night. Not now, not with her.

_Child killer. Murderer._

Another long drag on the bottle before passing it back to Rey. He was feeling the warmth now, chasing away the aches in his bones and some of the worry from the pit of his stomach.

“Reth.” Rey tried it out on her tongue. “Is he going to be a problem if I join up? I mean - he’s seen my face. Knows I’m a Force user. I don’t want...” she trailed off, leaving the rest of her words unsaid.

“A repeat performance?” Kylo growled lowly, thinking of David lying dead somewhere far away. “He won’t. The Monk was always calculating. His plans are his own and may make little sense to those of us not in his head - but he won’t make the same mistake that the Armory did.” 

Rey nodded slowly, taking her own pull from the bottle. She turned to face Kylo, determination shining in her eyes. “Am I going to have to pick a weird name, too?”

Kylo almost laughed, but the gravity of the situation stopped him. “Actually, the names were largely indicative of talents. The Monk is more studious than violent. The Heavy is extremely strong. The Sniper and the Rogue should be self-explanatory, and the Armory is... was... far fonder of blasters than sabers even with his Force sensitivity.” Kylo felt a flush rise in his own cheeks, but the liquid courage burning in his belly goaded him into plunge ahead regardless. “I had considered – what of the Hand?”

Rey laughed, and Kylo felt a bit like shrinking in on himself before he realized she wasn’t disparaging his suggestion. “The Hand. That is a bit how it all started, isn’t it?”

Kylo looked at her and nodded, gratified that she wasn’t mocking or derisive. She was just _kind_. “That, and the Hand has a symbolic meaning from ancient times. The right-hand man - a ruler’s agent, his most trusted advisor. It signifies your position to the rest of my Knights and gives you some element of protection.” _As well as keeping you close. Very close. Because I’m an extremely selfish bastard. Oh scavenger, don’t mistake me, I could send you far away and keep you safe. And I probably should. But I need you so much closer._

Rey inclined her head thoughtfully. “I like it.” The words were soft but rang as loud as a thunderclap in Kylo’s ears. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your Hand. It’s as good a plan as any.” She laughed tightly, plainly worried but still so trusting. “I suppose I’ll just have to get used to wearing a mask around.”

Kylo shook his head. _Cover up your lovely face? Not on my life. “_ Not for a while you won’t.” _Or ever, if I have my way. “_ There’s a long way to go before you’d ever actually leave this ship as the Hand - if ever. You can be barefaced – the rest often are. My situation is... different. And the Monk is just a stubborn bastard.”

Rey snorted, shaking her head in agreement.

Kylo considered for a moment before vocalizing the next statement. “I need an excuse to keep him close. I’ll be recalling all of the Knights eventually, when we have a solid plan, but the Monk may agree to help without additional guile. I’d like to keep him around under the guise of continuing your training. He’s a formidable Force user – not for his combat skills, but for his manipulation of minds. It’s he who taught me the Force Sleep trick.” _Ages ago, when we were children._

Rey nodded, picking at the hem of her sleeve. “I can handle it. I doubt he’ll be overfond of the assignment, but maybe I can win him over. Perhaps I’ll even learn something.”

“Oh, I feel sure you’ll learn something. If it’s what the Monk is trying to teach you or not, I couldn’t say.”

“I’ll need all the help I can get if we’re really going to do this.”

“Do what?” Another drink, the liquid swilling in the bottle louder than their voices. 

Rey gestured around the room, the stars, themselves. “All of this. Take over the First Order.”

“I seem to have done that already.”

She laughed, high and squeaky, before taking the bottle again and having another drink. “So you have. Where does that leave me?”

Kylo snatched the bottle back, his control warring with the warmth from the liquor as some of his carefully-held barriers faltered. “Mmm. Patron saint of lost causes, I believe.”

“Chief among them, myself.”

“Followed closely by the galaxy.” _And somewhere in there, me._

The conversation reached a natural pause, and they sat in silence together for a moment.

“Am I the only girl?” Rey asked suddenly, taking another long dram from the bottle. There was a slight slur to her words, and Kylo suddenly realized just how much they’d had to drink.

He barked out a laugh then, harsh but not entirely mirthless. “Are you worried? You are the only one yet.” _The only one ever. The only one that means anything, anyway._

Rey snorted in a very unladylike manner. “Not worried. Just curious.” Kylo looked at her then - really looked at her, through the soft lens of being comfortably inebriated. Her new light grey robes were crinkled from where she had been sitting on them, and he could see her bare feet peeking out from the bottom hem. He made a mental note to have some soft shoes sent up to her. She couldn’t very well be wearing his old boots everywhere or going barefoot. Her eyes were glassy from the drink, and the lovely high flush was back in her cheeks. It matched the stain of her lips, one side brighter red from being worried by a tooth.

Something stirred deep inside his chest, and Kylo tried to bury it before it could threaten to choke him. He was losing himself in the drink, and this girl. He had to stop thinking about her lips.

A glance at the chrono told him that the night was wearing on, and he still needed to speak to the Monk before it got much later. _Kriff_. He’d have to leave.

And then he’d miss how the hair fell around her shoulders as she turned to face him, the softness in her eyes as they crinkled in a smile. They way her Light chased away the worst of his Darkness. In his mind’s eye he could already see her, a beacon in the night, a tattered line of string tugging against his heart and dragging him from his room; a specter leading him down the hall to her door.

He hadn’t realized just how close they had gotten, sitting on the edge of her bed. Their fingers were millimeters apart, a twitch and they would be touching. Reflexively he moved his hand back into his lap, protecting himself.

But this was _Rey_. The girl who had trusted him with her life on more than one occasion. Who had crossed a galaxy to come to him. Who agreed to join him on this ridiculous crusade, which had to be doomed to fail. Who had agreed without hesitation to join a group of killers and soldiers of fortune because he had asked.

And she was staring at him with so much kriffing _love_ in her eyes, he may as well surrender on the spot. Her affection for him was a mistake. But he was willing to let her make it, because he was _weak_.

His traitorous hand moved to touch her face, to gently brush the faded bruising and disappearing welt that it had caressed earlier. Soft skin, dotted with tiny freckles. He traced the line of her cheekbone, the shell of her ear. The gentle curve of her cheek and jawline. He wound his fingers in that escaped strand of her hair brushing her cheek. The corner of his mind that was less drink-hazy than the rest quaked at his boldness, but Kylo muffled it quickly.

She wasn’t running. 

Rey stared at him, never breaking eye contact. She had leaned in, even closer than before. Her hands moved to rest lightly on his thigh, her touch burning like fire. Depthless hazel eyes held his gaze steady, full of acceptance and a certain longing. Her breaths were shallow pants, pupils wide from the liquor and something _else_ -

And then, he needed his mouth on hers as much as he needed to breathe.

Without a thought, he slid his hand to cradle the back of her head, thick strands of brown hair winding in between his long fingers. Kylo brought his lips crashing down on hers gracelessly, the motion full of all his endless longing. She was sunlight, a long summer’s day. The dots of spark-bugs in the night sky. The tang of whiskey still lingered on her lips, and it seemed even sweeter for having been there. 

Rey responded to him immediately, leaning into his kiss and tangling her hands in his loose hair, her fingers tracing their own path on his scars, his jawline, his neck. Her tongue brushed his lips, and Kylo was helpless to do anything else but open his mouth and drown in her. Whiskey and brightness. Their Bond sang, energy and Force engulfing them until each other was quite literally the only thing in the universe.

As suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Kylo broke them apart, fear of losing control paramount in his mind. He wanted more, but he wasn’t going to take it. 

He stood awkwardly, releasing Rey as gently as possible as he practically bolted for the door without a word. Once there, however, he paused, turning to catch her eye once more. _Maker, don’t be scared of me again._

Rey looked slightly disheveled, but not in the least frightened. She smirked at him, eyes aflame with the same feeling that burned in the pit of his stomach and made him want to run. “You don’t have to go.” She said it softly, full of hope 

Oh Maker, but he did.

He shook his head, his brashness disappearing in the face of her acceptance. “I do. But not because of you.” _But because I will make you hurt_ , _like I hurt every precious thing._

Like a coward, he stepped through her door and left, heading for the safety of his quarters, mask and gloves in hand. After a quick and cold shower, he summoned the Monk for what turned out to be a very short and boring debrief. All Kylo could think of was _her_ , but a gentle tug on the Bond told him she was already asleep.

He wouldn’t disturb her. He wasn’t that selfish. Instead, he lay on top of the covers of his bed, trying to commit the curves of her face to memory till the small hours of the morning.


	23. Chapter 23

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Rey awoke with a headache and a vague sense of unease. Rolling over in bed, it took her a moment to reorient herself – above her head, there was a port-hole full of stars hovering behind a plant with full, flat leaves. Rey frowned. Should she be seeing one or the other? But the more she squinted, the more it sunk into her addled brain.

She had been spurned by the Resistance.

She had run straight into the arms of the First Order without a second thought.

She was on board the Supremacy.

She had kissed Ben Solo.

Her cheeks burned at the memory of his lips on hers. The power, and the softness. His hands tugging her hair, brushing her face. The way his mouth tasted of liquor and something she couldn’t quite place - something sweet, and dark. His aquiline nose nudging her cheek, the harsh lines of his strong jaw under her fingers. His soft, dark mane of hair. The way his eyes had burned as he had left her alone.

Her heart accelerated at the memory, her palms beginning to sweat. Rey groaned heartily before rolling over again to bury her face in the almost-too-soft pillow. She hadn’t meant to kiss him – not yet, not then. Rey had wanted to, certainly – that wasn’t the question; but she had barely been on the ship for twelve hours, and a leap of such magnitude seemed more than a little forward. The drink had made both of them bolder, taken down walls that were probably better left alone.

She wondered if Ben felt the same and grimaced into the silky fabric. She could only speculate as to his mental state, but it likely wasn’t great - especially after he ran out of the room last night.

Despite her head telling her to put the brakes on this crazy train, her knowledge of the Force hummed. It was content with the state of affairs, and that gave Rey a glimmer of hope. If the Force thought she hadn’t well and truly fucked up, then things were alright.  

Probably.

Hopefully.

As for her own heart, well – that wasn’t worth mentioning.

Rey groaned into the pillow before slinging herself out of the bed and lurching across the floor to the bathroom. Her slept-in clothes were rumpled and sweaty, and now that she had a ‘fresher with unlimited water supply, well – it was time for another shower. Rey wasn’t sure she’d ever get over the luxury of being fresh almost any time she wished. After a lifetime of sweating under the hot sun, covered in infiltrating sand-grain soldiers, it seemed like she could never be clean enough.

Her head throbbed and spun, her stomach giving an unpleasant rumble as she tried to recall exactly how much of the whisky they’d shared last night. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the bottle on her dresser.

Rey groaned a third time. A lot. The answer was a lot.

She needed to eat.

Rerouting from the ‘fresher door, she stumbled to the dresser where the datapad sat. Ben had said she could order food with this thing – but he hadn’t explained how. Rey could only hope she was awake enough to figure it out. A tap brightened the screen, the Aurbesh characters swimming a little in her blurry vision. Rey poked an icon, looking for a messenger system or perhaps a droid interface, but nothing looked quite right. Trial and error time, then.

A tapping at the door startled her into dropping the datapad. _Ben?_ Rey sent a quick query through the Bond, waiting dopily for a moment before she realized their link was closed from his side. Not Ben, then. Who?

Rey jumped at the sound of another tap, and decided that she was just going to ignore it. No one aside from Ben and the Monk knew she was onboard – and if it wasn’t Ben, she was surely not going to open the door for the insufferable Knight. She had nothing to say to him, certainly not in this state. Rey didn’t have to look in the mirror to know her hair was a fuzzy corona around her head; tangles and frizz running riot -- not to mention her morning breath and rumpled clothes. She wasn’t even sure she would have opened the door if it _had_ been Ben.

Rey sat very still on the edge of the bed, hoping whoever it was would give up once there was no noise coming from the inside of the room. Moments passed, which Rey measured in throbs of her aching head. Surely whoever it was had left by now.

Tap, tap tap.

She was wrong.

“Mistress Rey? Are you awake?” The metallic voice of a droid rang in her ears, startling her from her silence with a small yelp. A fuddled memory from the night before – Ben mentioning a protocol droid. What was his name again? K2? J2? J2 – that was it.

“J2?” Rey called, wincing as the words bounced around her hollow skull.

“Yes. I have breakfast.” _Oh thank the Maker. And Ben Solo._

Rey stood on shaky legs, stumbling to the door and keying in her unlock code with unsteady hands. They grey panel slid open to reveal a typical protocol droid – the twin of Threepio, but matte black instead of shiny gold. His silver eyes seemed to widen in surprise at her sudden – and disheveled - appearance, but surely that was impossible.

“Mistress Rey. It was not my intention to wake you, my apologies.”

Rey looked down at the tray in the droid’s hands and grinned. “No, no, I was awake. And if there is caf on that tray, I’d probably forgive you if you murdered me. Come in.” She bowed slightly, a sweeping gesture beckoning the droid inside. Her dip wobbled a little, and Rey wondered for a moment if she wasn’t still slightly inebriated.

“Mistress Rey, if I murdered you, the caf would no longer be necessary.” J2 seemed perplexed to be invited in, but obediently stepped over the threshold all the same. A few waddling steps inside, and he set the tray on the bench at the foot of her bed.

“It’s an expression, J2.” Rey was too tired to say much else, plopping back down on the bed and uncovering the food with enthusiasm. Caf, some sort of breakfast meat, and a muffin. Heedless of how it looked, Rey dug in with gusto, utensils noted but ultimately neglected. The long strips of thin meat were crispy and hot, and went down nicely with the barely-sweetened caf. Rey frowned at the blackness of the beverage, though she found she didn’t truly hate it.

“Have you got any creamer, J2?” Rey asked around a mouthful of food. J2 looked vaguely horrified.

“Not with me, Mistress, but I could -”

Rey waved him off. “It’s not going to last that long. Don’t worry about it.”

J2 stared, standing awkwardly to the side. “Did you require anything further?”

Rey drained the last of her caf before plunking the mug back onto the tray. “Yes. First off. Thank you.” She punctuated this statement with a finger pointed at the droid’s chest. “I already feel far more human than before. Secondly.” Rey’s stomach grumbled loudly, interrupting her train of thought. She blanched. “Hold – hold that thought J2.” 

Rey stood shakily, running to the ‘fresher and slamming the door behind her. The droid looked from the closed door, to the breakfast tray, back to the closed door. He gathered the tray, setting the uneaten muffin to the side. J2 had seen the outcome of enough after-hours gatherings to know what had happened, and what was needed. He felt sure that he would return before Rey was out of the ‘fresher.

Why the fleshbags did this to themselves, he would never understand.

\----

It was a beautiful day on the Supremacy, and Kylo had to seriously concentrate to avoid having a visible bounce in his step. He was sitting through the second boring meeting of the day, next to a grumpy General Hux, where they were discussing the extremely important ramifications of the reports from their Resistance contacts. It appeared that the ripples from Rey’s – their – stunt were further reaching than previously thought, and the Resistance was busy turning itself inside out. Despite the gravity of the meeting, Kylo found himself drifting in and out of focus.

He had slept well for the first time in weeks.

He had more of a solid plan than he’d had in weeks.

He had found a way to keep the scavenger girl close.

He had kissed Rey.

There had been other women, to be sure. But there had never been other kisses. And none of them had been _Rey_.

Soft lips, softer hands. The burn of liquor echoed in the trails of fire left by her hands on his face; his scar. The taste of her, clean and lemon-bright behind the whisky. The feeling of freshly-washed hair between his fingers. Her willing response, no fear in her actions. The way her eyes had lingered on his as he left the room.

Kylo blinked, pushing away the too-warm memories of her and feeling suddenly glad of the barrier his helmet provided. He had to concentrate. No slipups – it would still cost him, even if for once the world seemed full of promise. The roomful of generals on holoscreens seemed complacent for now, but Kylo knew their eagle eyes still tracked his every move. He was still the out-of-place puppy, and there were many who coveted his position.

No mistakes. No missteps. Not now, when he had so much to lose.

Kylo made a valiant effort to pay attention, but his thoughts continued to drift. He had no idea how Rey truly felt about the events of last night, now that the courage lent by the liquor had faded. He had kept the Bond shut for many reasons, habit being one of them. Perhaps he should check on her – just a quick peek. She wouldn’t even need to know. It was likely she was still asleep; it was barely 1000, and he had no idea how her internal clock ran.

No, better to not give in. He needed to concentrate on this briefing – how was he supposed to direct the First Order if he had no idea what was going on? There had been enough distractions in the last week; now, it was time for focus.

Hux cleared his throat, startling Kylo from his thoughts. “Thank you, Captain. Now, General Veers, you had mentioned earlier than your scout ships intercepted a small rebel fighter – what were you able to divine from their interrogation?”

“Yes – it was a x-wing, out all on its own. Once he was caught in the tractor beam, the pilot wiped the flight logs so we were unable to divine his point of origin, however --”

Maybe Rey was awake. He had sent J2 to deliver breakfast – did he ever make it down? A few taps on the datapad and his curiosity would be satisfied, it wasn’t as if being on the ‘pad would be strange in the middle of the meeting…

Veer’s voice had faded to a monotonous drone, and Kylo huffed out an annoyed breath. Fuck it, how was he supposed to focus if he kept speculating on what Rey was doing instead of paying attention? Just a quick look. Kylo cracked the Bond, allowing just a tiny glimpse into what Rey was doing.

He immediately wished he hadn’t.

A ambiguous sense of her location swam in first – scalding water running in streams along her hair, trickling down her back. Cold tile underneath her legs, her shoulder leaning against a glass wall. The shower – Kylo nearly slammed the connection shut then, if only to maintain her privacy. All at once, her emotions trickled in – but instead of her usual cocktail of bright, muddled feelings, the only sense he received from her was regret, with a growing unease building in her stomach.

Kylo scrambled to close the Bond, once again thankful for the cover his helmet provided him. He felt sure all the color had drained from his face, the straight line of his shoulders bowing slightly. He was suddenly irrationally grateful for the strategy meeting. Now, instead of an annoyance it would serve as a much-needed distraction. It would be far easier to concentrate on the buzz of Veer’s voice over the holoscreen then the memory of Rey’s regret, ashy on his tongue.

A lump settled in his own throat, a heavy swallow bringing it to rest in his stomach.

Voice droned around him – Veers, joined by Hux and then Phasma. Their words flitted like bugs around his head, his jumbled thoughts batting them away before they could land. Kylo was going to drive himself mad wondering what exactly it was she regretted, but in his heart, he already knew. The slimy speech of his self-doubt chuckled in his ear.

_Why would you have thought – for one moment – that she wanted you. You’re an escape plan, and nothing more._

The part of Kylo’s mind that dwelled on the light in her hazel eyes, her uncloaked feelings as they poured through the Bond disagreed vehemently, but he shut all thoughts of the scavenger girl away. It was easier. It was easier by far when he didn’t think of her, of the possibilities and pitfalls awaiting him.

There was nothing else he could do now, regardless. He had crossed the bridge, and if it was going to burn there was nothing he could do to stop it.

_She’ll leave._

The thought stopped his heart, slowed his breath, but Kylo refused to let it rule him. Not here, not now. This was not the place for panic – the middle of a meeting he was supposed to be conducting. With the practice of years, he slowly mastered himself again, the façade of Kylo Ren pushing Ben to the background once more. The colors seemed to mute alongside the receding pain in his chest, and the world presented itself to him once more in black and white. No room for grey.

It was safer this way.

Veer’s words wormed their way back into his ear, and Kylo resigned himself to listening to the familiar murmur of the general’s voice. He gave the report of the captured x-wing pilot the attention it deserved. He had to – he was the Supreme Leader.

If there was anything life had taught him, it was that he was not Ben Solo.

\----

Rey awoke again several hours later, back in her bed. Opening her eyes slowly, she noted the dimmed overhead lights with relief. Her head felt much better, even though she was still rather nauseated. She sat up slowly, noting she was clad an oversized shirt that had not previously belonged to her. It was black, and hit her about mid-thigh.

“Hello Mistress Rey. Feeling better?” 

Rey squinted, clearing the sleep from her eyes. “J2? You didn’t need to stay.”

The look on J2’s fixed metal features plainly said that yes, he did need to stay, because she was a silly little human with no appreciation for the consequences of a night of heavy drinking. He was arranging clothes in the small closet – Rey noticed her freshly-pressed grey robes hanging next to a piece of black cloth that she didn’t recognize.

“The tabs appear to have helped.” This time it wasn’t Rey’s imagination - his metallic voice even sounded sassy. J2 shut the closet door, making his ambling way to the other side of the room where a pitcher of water sat.

Rey rubbed her forehead, taking the proffered glass. “Yes – I think the worst of it has passed.”

“May I recommend not repeating that particular course of action?”

“Duly noted.” Rey nodded, grateful that the room no longer seemed to spin as she did so. “Did… did you fix my clothes?”

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

“It was necessary.”

Rey nodded, deciding not to pursue that memory further.

“I’ve also brought you a training outfit. Standard issue.”

This time, Rey smiled. That explained the mystery black clothes. “Thanks, J2. What time is it?” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, noting the pair of soft shoes set to the side. Slipping them on, she stood and stretched fully, her back creaking.

“Around 1740.”

Rey groaned, gently prodding the Bond and finding it still shut tightly. She frowned. Was Ben upset with her? It wasn’t exactly like him to keep it shut this long – usually she could catch a small glimpse of his day. She had been asleep for much of it, however. Perhaps she was just overthinking it.

Perhaps she wasn’t.

Only one way to find out.

“J2, can I ask a question?”

The droid’s silver eyes glowed. “Of course, Mistress.”

Faltering for a moment, Rey thought of the best way to phrase her request without giving the droid the wrong impression. Or, rather, the correct impression, but not one she wanted getting around. “Are you able to, um – contact the Supreme Leader?”

“He is generally in his office this time of day and available. I usually bring an evening meal around 1830. Does that answer your question?”

 _It tells me Ben doesn’t have much in the way of a social life._ “Could – would it be possible for you to ask him to -”

“It would.” J2 stared knowingly. Rey shrank back from his intense, glowing eyes. _Maker, this droid is something else._

\----

Half an hour later, Kylo stood before Rey’s door, palms sweating in the thick leather of his gloves. When J2 had tapped on his office door nearly forty-five minutes earlier than usual, he had been snappish with the droid, angry at him for breaking his concentration on the follow up report from today’s strategy meeting.

The fallout from Rey’s – their – little stunt was ripping the Resistance apart. Reports were beginning to emerge of an ideological split – something the already-weak Resistance would never survive. It appeared that his original plot to throw the game was going up in flames – and if the Resistance fell, the New Republic was as good as dead. There would be no one left to stand before the First Order.

He needed a new plan.

He needed a drink.

No, that wasn’t it – that wouldn’t help.

He needed Rey.  

Which was why he had been so surprised when J2 had said she wanted to speak with him. The irritating protocol droid had given him no indication as to _why_ Rey had wanted to speak to him, going so far as to waddle away determinedly when Kylo had called after him demanding an explanation.

That couldn’t be good – could it?

After watching the droid’s retreating back, his heart had promptly sailed into the toes of his boots and remained there for the second-longest lift ride of his entire existence. The faint glimpse which he had caught of her morning still hung in the air around him, haunting him despite the best of intentions. It had clouded his judgment for the rest of the day.

And so, he was before her door – mask off, gloves on, and door still unopened because he couldn’t bring himself to knock.

Moments passed, measured by the thud-thud of his disloyal heart.

With bravado he didn’t feel, Kylo finally raised his hand to rap softly on the door. He swallowed, steadying himself for whatever awaited him behind the unassuming grey metal. Before his knuckles made contact, the panel slid open to reveal the slightly-disheveled face of the scavenger girl.

Her small mouth was split wide into a smile, soft eyes sparkling. “You know, that droid really is convenient.”

Kylo blinked, not expecting the warm welcome. Where was the regret? The vitriol? Of course – she still needed him, so she must be masking it. He schooled his features into a neutral expression, washing away the hopeful thoughts her smile had elicited.

Her face fell when he didn’t reply, her brow furrowing with concern. “Oh - I suppose you didn’t have your own personal nursemaid droid for today. Are you still feeling badly? Did you want to come inside – are you hungry? I still have some of the headache tabs J2 brought, but I think I used all of the stomach remedy…”

_Wait – what?_

Rey paused again when she saw his puzzled expression, one finger pointing to her temple. “Your head? I spent all morning regretting ever taking the first drink of that misbegotten whisky. Totally miserable. I can’t thank you enough for sending J2 with some breakfast, I’m afraid you would have found me in quite the state this evening if he hadn’t come along. As it was I slept most of the day, and now my stomach isn’t quite so bad – I was thinking maybe you could show me how to work this datapad and we could order some dinner? I haven’t eaten anything all day. Well, that I’ve kept, anyway.” She grimaced, and glanced toward the ‘fresher.

Kylo stood in the door, dumbfounded. He was an idiot, and he’d passed an anxious day for no reason whatsoever. Rey didn’t want to leave… she just couldn’t hold her liquor.

Which he would have known if he had just opened the Bond and _asked her_. 

He was an idiot. But – he was a _lucky_ idiot. 

Despite best intentions, a small grin crept through his carefully schooled features, and Rey’s smile returned in response. 

“… you didn’t get sick at all, did you.” She crossed her arms, full of fake reproach. “You moof milker.” Without waiting for a reply, she grasped his upper arm and tugged him inside. “You can repay me for your lack of headache by helping me sort out this datapad.”

J2 watched from his position down the hall as the door slid closed behind them. He shook his oval head slowly. In his electronic soul, he was eternally grateful for his logic circuits – the fleshbags could be so messy. And so transparent. As he shuffled down the hall to Master Ren’s room in search of something else to tidy, he allowed himself to feel the smallest sense of satisfaction.


	24. Chapter 24

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

The days following their kiss had been uneventful, at best. At least - between the two of them. The Resistance’s infighting had grown worse, to the point that it was nearly the only thing their newly established over-dinner strategy talks revolved around. The two split factions were openly fighting each other - something the First Order was extremely pleased with.

Ben and Rey, however, were not. Their initial plan to sabotage the First Order in favor of the Resistance could never work now. They needed a new endgame. It was a topic of endless conversation where little ground had been gained, but it made for scintillating conversation over dinner regardless.

Rey had enjoyed the routine that had become established - Ben would attend to First Order business during the day, and Rey would continue her reading - and re-reading - of the ancient texts, often with J2 for company for a few scattered hours.  

Ben would make his way down to her room at his formerly solitary dinner time. They would share a dinner, and discuss strategy, or Rey’s findings, sharing little tricks in the Force as they came to either of their recollections. Often their talks would last into the small hours of the morning, making Rey thankful that she had the luxury of sleeping in. She suspected that Ben did not. The dark circles under his eyes did not escape her notice. 

Sometimes, Rey ventured the topic of when Ben thought it would finally be time for her to take up training with the Monk. He always brushed it off. They were still unsure how, exactly, her introduction as a new member of the Knights of Ren would go down - and Ben was playing it extremely safe.

They both carefully avoided the topic of their kiss, although the memory of it burned on Rey’s lips often, sending a jolt through her stomach. She had resolved not to bring it up until Ben did, however. Something – the Force or her own intuition – told her the time wasn’t right.

She didn’t have to be in his head to know that Ben was scared - and so was she. But Rey could wait. She was good at waiting. 

Except for today - today she was beginning to chafe. Today was no different from the other two preceding it, which in their turn had been the same as the five before. Rey lay on her back on her bed, staring at the ceiling panels with disinterest. She had grown weary of the current volume she was paging through - and frankly, of being confined to her room.

She could tell Ben was wary of letting her roam the Supremacy freely, and she understood why even as she resented it. There was so much drama on this damn boat that she was sometimes surprised it managed to fly at all. Infighting between upper level staff, the underlings living in fear of reprisals, and plots both petty and cunning being enacted every day. It would be easy to be caught in the crossfire, especially since the protocols of the First Order were largely a mystery to her. Outside her doors, it was cutthroat. Listening to Ben describe the trivial discords and spats he dealt with on a daily basis was exhausting. 

The First Order was fucked up, too. Just not as publicly visible as the Resistance.

Rey stretched, muscles aching for use. She needed to do something. A part of her had enjoyed relaxing in what felt like absolute luxury - a soft bed, warm shower, food anytime she was hungry, and access to the holonet whenever she wanted it. But there were only so many holodramas she could binge-watch before she started to climb the walls. Only so many times she could re-read ancient words on a brittle page, hoping they would reveal some sort of mystery to her. Her body ached for the sun, real ground beneath her feet, for exercise, for a fight.

Rey was not made to be sedentary. So, when Ben visited this evening, she was going to make her case for beginning her training with the Monk - or even with Ben himself. He couldn’t keep her locked away forever, safe or not. She had to do _something_.

Rey was not built for being kept safe.

She popped up from the bed and began to pace the floor while deep in thought. She needed more clothes. Even if she snuck out on her own, she would stick out like a sore thumb in any of her current things, even the training uniform J2 had brought.

She supposed she could ask the droid – no telling what the curious thing could scare up for her. Rey found herself liking the protocol droid, even if she didn’t fully trust him not to squeal on her to Ben. She supposed there were worse things than a droid’s sense of loyalty.

Rey flopped back on the bed gracelessly, grabbing for her discarded datapad and calling up the message center. A few taps, and the droid would be at her door and she could put in a request. Clothes problem - likely solved. 

It didn’t take long before she heard a metallic tapping on the door and Rey rose happily to answer it. Instead of the protocol droid, however, she stared into the blank eyes of a deaths-head mask. 

Rey blinked, and took a step back. _Unexpected_. She tugged hard on the Bond. _Ben... the Monk is here._ His presence stirred, and Rey caught a glimpse of what sounded like a very boring meeting. A wave of his concern, with a spark of curiosity mingled in, tickled her mind.

_Find out what he wants._

_“_ You.” Rey crossed her arms and tilted her head, doing her best to give off an air of imperious annoyance instead of surprise.

“Me.” The Monk’s vocorder acted differently than Ben’s, and it gave his voice an almost slithery quality.

“What are you doing here, besides interrupting my afternoon?” Rey raised an eyebrow at him. She wasn’t afraid.

The Monk roughly shouldered past her into her room, and Rey allowed it. A fight in the hallway was far more visible than a fight in her room. Without a word, the Monk walked over to her bed where her Jedi text still lay open and began inspecting it.

Rey strode over angrily, shutting the book as quickly as she dared and hoping she hadn’t disturbed any of the fragile pages. “I don’t recall inviting you in.”

The Monk ignored her question completely. “You’re a curious girl, Rey of Jakku.” His voice was a dangerous purr, a predator circling prey that they know is already trapped.

 _Fuck_. Ben’s presence was at full attention now, whatever meeting he was in forgotten. Rey stiffened, trying not to show how surprised she was at his statement and failing. The Monk smirked. “Oh, don’t act so surprised, little lost girl, anyone could put these pieces together if they just knew where to look. You can’t have hoped to keep it a secret forever... either of you.” He stepped closer to her, slowly backing her against the wall. “I’ll admit, when I got the assignment to pick you up, I assumed my sainted Master was just finally joining the rest of the world and getting a piece of tail.” Ben’s anger burned at that, and Rey tried to quiet him. It was hard to focus with someone else’s rage simmering in the back of your head.

“But - and you’ll have to pardon my coarseness here, my dear - you were absolutely not whoring material. I knew it as soon as I laid eyes on you kicking the shit out of that slaver - and with the Force, no less. So, I asked myself - what could the Master possibly want with _you_. And I bided my time and waited for him to tell me. And you know... he never did. Which, my dear, is very unusual for him.”

“So, I started digging. And it didn’t take long before I heard an interesting report. That a scrawny Force-sensitive girl - a part of the Resistance, no less - was not only Force-bonded to one Ben Solo but that because of her the Resistance was coming apart at the seams.”

Rey’s back was flat against her bedroom wall, fingers curled around the hilt of her saber hidden beneath her outer robe. She stared into the depthless eyes of the Monk steadily and without fear, even though she definitely felt it in her bones. Her entire internal monologue consisted of an unbroken string of Huttese profanity, and Ben was curiously silent. The Force rattled her bones, the oily blackness of her Darkness urging her to attack before things got any worse. _He’ll kill you_ , it whispered. _Kill him first._

Rey stood her ground, fingers trembling around the cool metal of her saber. Rationally, she thought it through. _Play it out. Don’t give in. Don’t start this fight._

“I heard a rather interesting tale of an impressive display of Force use, healing a Wookiee caught in some crossfire. It’s being said that Ben Solo himself appeared next to this girl, a vision of the Force. She must have... quite the hold on him. Or is it the other way around, I wonder, and he has the hold over her? I can see it now - Little lost girl falls hopelessly in love with a monster she thinks she can redeem. A tale as old as time.”

He chuckled mirthlessly, the sound chilling the blood in her veins.

“You know what your precious Ben Solo has done, little girl? The blood of the innocent little children that drips from his hands? I bet he can’t even take a piss without seeing their screaming faces. I bet every time he feels your Light he’s reminded of how it felt to embrace the Darkness. You won’t win, _scavenger_ , and you can’t save him.” 

Rey stared at him, unblinking, even as her limbs vibrated with rage and fear. Ben’s description of the Monk as studious was surely ringing true. Rey felt studied like an insect under a magnifying glass. He was sniffing for her weakness - and he knew it already - but she wasn’t going to let him have it.

Undeterred by her lack of reaction, the Monk pressed on. “And just look at you now. He’s been keeping you in here just like a little pet, only a few meters down the hall from his own room. It’s a smidge endearing, seeing you in here reading those useless texts like you’re going to actually _learn_ something.” Almost too fast for Rey to see, the Monk raised his hand clenched his fingers, the Force gripping her neck and slamming her against the wall of her room.

Rey called the Force to her, using it just enough to keep him from crushing her windpipe. He knew something - she could sense it. If she could keep him talking, keep him thinking he was in control...

“But I know who you are, little sand rat. Who you really are.”

Before Rey could react to that, the door to her quarters groaned open, forced apart by Ben Solo’s large hands. Brute strength, not Force. Rey’s eyes widened - she had not seen him so full of rage since the forest in the snow. It was practically a halo around him, the air vibrating with power and anger. His black cape swirled dramatically around him, lending him the appearance of a vengeful angel. It felt like there was nothing else in the room but _Ben_ , and Maker was that a good feeling.

Without so much as a flicker of his fingers, Ben had gripped the Monk with the Force and flung him across the room, scattering Rey’s books and datapad in the process as well as knocking over her favorite red flower. His bulk slammed into the mirror with a huge crash, shattering it and sending shards of glass flying across the room. Ben advanced on him quickly, putting a booted foot under his chest and flipping the fallen man over onto his back.

Rey fell to her knees as the Monk’s Force hold dissipated, gasping out a choking cough before flying to her feet and rushing to stand beside Ben. He now had the Monk hanging by his neck in the air, tiny droplets of blood pattering down on the floor from the cuts on his back. Despite his precarious position, the Knight had the gall to laugh.

“Oh Ben.... so predictable. You just.... confirmed... everything. Can’t resist your... white-knight complex... can you? Even when... you’re dressed in black.”

“By all means, keep talking, _Reth_.” Ben spat out the other man’s name like it was a curse, “I’m enjoying finding yet more of a reason to kill you.” He tightened his grip with the Force, and Monk fell silent.

“Ben, stop - you can’t kill him.” _Yes, he can,_ the Darkness whispered. _Let him. You will be saving yourself so much trouble. Strike him down._

Ben shot her an inscrutable look, unreadable through the lens of his mask. “I think you’ll find I can.” He maintained his hold on the Knight effortlessly, all of his rage channeled into it. But with his free hand, he gently grasped Rey’s chin and tilted her head, inspecting the damage done to her neck. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them refracted in the shattered mirror. All she could see was tenderness, even as he was strangling a man before her eyes. 

She had to be careful. Very, very careful. _Guard yourself, scavenger girl. You are playing with fire._

Apparently satisfied, he released the Monk with a final squeeze on his neck. The Knight fell ungracefully to the floor.

Rey strode over to him, and with none of the gentleness she reserved for Ben ripped his mask from his face.

“Fuck, girl, watch the ears.” Reth groused in his natural voice. Rey was shocked - the round face, brown eyes, and shock of close-cropped light brown hair added up to nothing like she expected to see. His face seemed a tinge reddened from oxygen loss, but otherwise it was impossible to tell that moments ago he had been hanging by his neck. He was collected and calm, not even a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

 _Dangerous_ , all Rey’s instincts whispered at once. _Away_. She did back away, almost involuntarily, and tried to cover it by rescuing her poor plant. She felt Ben brushing her mind anxiously, and she sent him reassurance back.

“You better have a really good explanation for this, _Gareth_.” She tossed his helmet down carelessly to pick up her red flower and set it to rights. Smoothing the ruffled leaves, she inspected a bruised petal with a sad frown. _Fucker hurt my flower_.

 _“_ Don’t call me that, scavenger girl.” A slight narrowing of his eyes gave away the fact that he was truly irritated and not simply playing a part. Rey faced the Knight again and crossed her arms.

“Don’t call _her_ that, you fucking -” Ben’s ire flared to life again, and Rey put her foot down before she got swallowed up in the backlash.

“Enough!” She roared, looking at the both of them. “Maker, you’re both acting like laser brains. Gareth. Reth. Whatever the fuck you call yourself. Explain. Now.”

“I’m not scared of you.”

“Further proof you’re an idiot. Start talking.” She didn’t miss Ben’s snort of amusement behind her, his anger back to a low boil. 

“I had my suspicions, and this seemed like the faster way to confirm them. It’s been over a week, and my good pal _Ben_ here hadn’t even said one word about his mysterious girl. So, I did what I did best... I pushed buttons. Any threat to this little darling right here, and you come running like your name’s been called. Boom, story is true. I got my answers, and here we are.” Reth pulled himself to a sitting position and leaned back against Rey’s dresser. He toyed with the silver cartouche around his neck, sneering.

“You forget yourself, _Knight_.” Ben growled through the vocorder, still boiling over in anger behind them.

“Oh save it, Ben, I’m not afraid of you either. Take the damn mask off so we can talk like human beings for once. I think you’re going to be interested in what I have to say.” 

Rey turned to look at Ben, hiking an eyebrow skyward.

Ben unlatched his mask somewhat reluctantly, shaking loose his long black hair and glowering at the man on the floor. Reth showed no reaction to the severe scarring that now marred his former friend’s face. “Talk.” Ben’s true voice was a velvet-soft warning that his patience was well and truly gone.

Rey felt Ben unblock his side of the Bond, his rage finally dulled to a slow boil. His relief had overshadowed his anger.

Reth looked back and forth between Ben and Rey, his eyes widening in surprise. “Kriff. I wouldn’t have believed it unless I really saw it myself. It’s true. It’s really true. That may be the most impressive Force Bond in recorded history. It’s like - a tree trunk. Most of them are this slender thread, but no, you two kids had to go and manufacture a goddam _tractor beam_. _”_

Ben and Rey’s voices overlapped. “Kids?” “What do you mean, you can see it?”

Reth rolled his eyes and hauled himself to his feet, brushing broken glass from his clothes. “I mean, I can sense it - not truly see it with my eyes. But if you know where to look, you can see the Force between all things. And Maker, is there a _lot_ of Force between you two. _”_

Rey cast her eyes to Ben, waiting for his reaction. He stood still as a stone, arms crossed over his chest and glowering down at the shorter man.

“Tough crowd. Okay. So, first off... I should probably apologize for being a total asshole and nearly choking out your little girlfriend over here. I wouldn’t have actually _hurt_ her, I was just... testing. _”_

Ben’s rage flashed hot again. “You had no right to touch her. Or to say those things to her.”

“Oh please. You forget, I know you, _Solo_. She had to already know about those poor kids. You’d never make it this far without baring your bleeding, wounded heart for her to kiss better. You might love the drama of it even more than I do.”

 _Maker, this guy does not know when to quit._ If Rey’s eyebrows climbed any higher, they would have just become a permanent part of her hairline. She tugged gently on the Bond, but found Ben blocking her out again. So much the better - one of them needed to be in control. She was a little surprised Ben hadn’t already lit him up.

 _“_ You always were a sociopath, Reth.”

 _“_ Guilty and remorseless, Ben.” His oily smirk turned Rey’s stomach. _Dangerous_ , her senses whispered again.

But it appeared to have the opposite effect on her Bondmate, and he relaxed his stance. His arms remained crossed, but his shoulders no longer held the tense line of a wolf getting ready to pounce. “So, what’s your endgame, why draw us out like this?”

“Boredom, mostly.” Reth studied his gloved hands, frowning as he picked a piece of glass from the back of one.

“You have not changed one iota and it’s infuriating. I know there’s a better reason than that.”

“Fine, fine. After David was killed, I... investigated it. Found out he went a bit rogue and snuck into the Resistance without being ordered to and wound up getting blasted in the back for it. And then I found out _why_.” He paused, making eye contact with Rey directly. “Maker, was I ever shocked. I mean, Ben with a girl is surprising enough, but Kylo Ren - the arbiter of our little band of darksiders and miscreants - participating in the most impressive display of Lightside use since before the Jedi were killed? Downright ridiculous. Can’t be true, I said. Kylo was Snoke’s boy through and through. But then, not even a day after David’s been crisped, you contact me and ask me to bring this little snack here home, and the first thing you do when I see you, little girl? You’re hanging slavers by their ankles from a cantina ceiling. Lightsider through and through. And while I didn’t know... I just _knew_.”

Rey scowled. “That still doesn’t tell me why. Most people would just hold it over our heads, but no, you just barge right on in and throw it out in the open, tipping your hand. There’s something else.”

“Of course there is, Lightsider. I want in.”

“Excuse me?” _No vacancy in this Force Bond._

 _“_ Not in the - eurgh, Maker, gross, no - I mean in whatever scheme you’re cooking up. Because I know you are. Something is happening. The Force doesn’t give a gift like your Bond and then not expect it to be used for something amazing. And I’m nothing if not an opportunist.”

Rey and Ben exchanged a meaningful glance, and Ben rolled back the block on his side of the Bond again. They had hoped the Monk could be coerced to their side, but this was... different. All of Rey’s senses told her to run from this mercurial asshole, but they might need him. He was persuasive, and they were certainly going to need _that_.

 _Ben, I trust you. You’ve known him longer. You decide. For the record, I stand by my previous statement regarding calling him an insufferable asshole._ Rey quirked her eyebrow upward, barely suppressing a roll of her eyes. _And if he calls me a snack one more time, I’m not going to ask your permission to kick his ass._

Ben chuckled darkly in her head. _Consider permission granted in advance. He’s.... obnoxious - but this is a far better outcome than we could have hoped for. He’s more powerful than he seems. He may be the key to getting Hux and the generals on our side - maybe even the rest of the Knights._

_You underestimate yourself, Ben._

_“_ You two done having your gross little mental make out session?” Reth was tapping his foot with great fanfare, making a huge show of being inconvenienced. 

Ben rounded on him, drawing his saber with a stomp and backing him against the dresser. Reth put his hands up in surrender, the smirk still present on his face. Ben lowered his head so that he was leaning over the smaller man, looming over him in a way that was purely Kylo Ren. “How do you possibly expect me to trust you, Reth?”

Reth grinned, his face illuminated eerily with the red cast of Ben’s saber. “I don’t. I’m untrustworthy. You just must decide for yourself what your risk tolerance is. But we did trust each other once, my brother.” The word had an edge to it; it was a knife, and not a comfort.

“And because you trusted me, that path has lead us here, with you as the head of the First Order. It’s your decision if you want to make that call again.” Reth showed his teeth - it would have been incorrect to call it a smile. It was a friendly snarl.

A metallic voice broke the tension, and poor J2-SN poked his shiny black head through the hole in Rey’s door. “Excuse me, Mistress? Oh dear. This appears to be a bad time. Perhaps I should come back later - oh, Master, I didn’t see you there.” If a droid could look befuddled, this one did. 

Ben sheathed his saber and backed away from Reth, allowing the smaller man to rise to his feet fully. “J2, please arrange for this room to be set back to rights. And stay to find out whatever Rey called you for. We’re done here.”

He replaced his own helmet carefully and grabbed Reth but the collar of his robes before dragging him through the broken door none too gently. Reth went along willingly, without a hint of malice or guile. He offered Rey a sarcastic salute as he was propelled forward by a highly agitated Ben Solo. 

 _I’ll deal with him._ Ben’s voice was soothing and calm, a complete anathema to how Rey had expected him to react. _We’ll discuss this further tonight. If you need a space to go while this mess is being... dealt with... my room is coded to your print as well._

 _Be safe._ Rey knew some of her worry was trickling through the Bond, but she couldn’t help it.

 _Don’t worry about me._ A flicker of surprise came back from Ben, and something softer - affection. It warmed her to her toes.

 _I will anyway_. She smiled at him and knew all at once exactly how that made him feel. The dangerous feeling in the pit of her stomach gave a lurch.

Ben pushed Reth out of the door with more force than strictly necessary, summoning the Monk’s discarded helmet after them as an afterthought. Rey was left alone with J2 staring at her expectantly.

“Mistress, I will arrange for this disaster to be cleaned immediately. Now - what else may I assist you with?”

“Clothes, J2. I need clothes.” A wicked thought was forming in Rey’s mind, and somehow, she felt J2 would be equal to the task.


	25. Chapter 25

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Kylo strode confidently into his room, pleased with the final outcome of his discussion with the Monk. He made it one step in, only to be stopped in his tracks by the sight of Rey laying on his bed like she owned it.

She didn’t notice him at first, facing away from the door with her nose buried in one of her ancient Jedi books. She was laying on her belly, legs in the air and crossed at the ankles. And she was wearing black from head to toe - clothes he knew she hadn’t brought with her.

Now he knew why she wanted J2. And the sight of her in all black shouldn’t do the things to his stomach that it did - but here they were. _It’s pants and a tunic, Kylo. Keep it together._ Against his better judgment, he pulled off his helmet and gloves. _Keep up the walls between the two of you. Don’t do this._

Rey noticed him and shut her book before carefully putting it on the nightstand. “Hey.” A smile. She pulled herself into a sitting position, hazel eyes meeting his expectantly. Her full attention. Warmth and Light coming through the Bond. She was _happy_ to see him. How long had it been since someone had been unreservedly glad to see him?

Maker, but he wanted to kiss her. But he wouldn’t.

_Don’t let her in. She’s going to destroy you._

He stepped closer to the bed, preparing to give her a full report on his extremely productive conversation with Reth.

But instead, Kylo found himself reaching down, running his fingers through her hair and drawing her mouth to his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and the Bond sang with her happiness.

Explanations could wait.

——-

The next day, Rey found herself standing nervously outside a room marked “Training”. Ben had said to meet the Monk inside, that they had sorted out their differences and she could trust him to help her.

 _I’m not saying to let your guard down, Rey. I’m saying you can meet him and trust him not to harm you. He’s agreed to help_.

Ben had thought she didn’t notice the bruises across his knuckles, or the faded mottled purple mark across his cheek. But she did. And she understood perfectly well what sorting out their differences had meant.

Rey squared her shoulders, getting the distinct impression that she was back on Jakku and facing down an unknown and dangerous wreck, or another scavenger who threatened her. There had been scenes worse than this. Why was she so hesitant?

Before she could talk herself into it, the door slid open, and Reth stood in the opening, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He was unmasked and lacking most of his Monk garb, clad instead in simple black pants and a loose black shirt. _The fuck is up with all the black clothes around here?_

“Maker, if you sat out here waffling in indecision any longer we’re both going to sprout grey hairs. I’m not going to bite, scavenger girl. I made a promise.” Reth grinned wolfishly.

Rey scowled. “I’m not waffling.”

“You’ve been outside for fifteen minutes. That’s waffling. Get in here.” He twisted the cartouche he wore in a distracted circle.

Rey rolled her eyes and walked through, hiding her wince as the door shut behind her. She liked having an exit, and now there wasn’t an easy one. The desert girl balked.

Reth walked backwards to the center of the empty room, maintaining eye contact with her. “So, any idiot can see you’re already extremely powerful. And a natural Force user. You don’t get a Force Bond like you have if you’ve just got a basic understanding of How Things Work and the most impressive thing you can do is move around some rocks. But - can you truly control it? And I’m not talking about combat, that’s not my specialty. I’m talking about weaving webs, feeling the connections, and understanding it. Everything. The fabric of the universe.”

“How do you mean?” Rey frowned, even as the Force in her flourished triumphantly, as if this was something it had been trying to get her to understand. She was still leery of learning anything from this smarmy, unrepentant darksider.

Reth sat down on the floor cross-legged and motioned for Rey to join him. Begrudgingly, she lowered herself to the ground a good distance from where he had settled. Reth rolled his eyes and scooted awkwardly across the floor till he was a more reasonable distance away. “Listen, sunshine, I know we got off on the wrong foot, but if you want to know more than what’s inside those dusty old books, you’re going to have to give me a little.” Another wolfish leer turned Rey’s stomach.

“I don’t have to give you anything.”

An eyeroll. “Maker, you and Kylo are a pair after all. Matched set. It’s like you’re the female, light side version of his harsh brooding ass. You deserve each other. Throw me a bone here, princess, I’m trying to help. You think you can be the Hand with good intentions and a little luck? It may have gotten your dusty ass through Jakku but you’ll be eaten alive in the Core worlds.”

Rey bristled. “Listen, _Gareth_ , I’ve survived far more that you can ever hope to understand, and I bet my _dusty ass_ could string you up from the ceiling in less time than it would take you to draw your blaster.”

Reth cackled. “I like you, girl. Let’s get started.”

———

Rey looked up from the page she had re-read at least seven times now to stare out her window at the ever-present stars. She kept wondering about her friends - if they were safe. If they understood what why she had done what she did.

She closed her eyes and slipped into a light meditation, feeling for them in the Force. She couldn’t sense Poe, or Finn, or Rose, and she never had been able to - but it didn’t stop her from trying. Chewbacca, too, she was unable to locate. Somehow, that one stung the most.

Leaving her desire to find her friends behind, she sought her Master’s connection instead. Luke’s fire still burned angrily, the Dark band in him growing ever wider. And Leia was mere glimmer, the strength of her connection dimmed by an unrepentant sadness. Sometimes, it seemed to Rey that her Force link guttered in an invisible breeze, only to flare to life again. Rey worried impotently.

She wondered why Master Luke hadn’t tried to contact her again. She wondered if he was angry with her. A part of her wanted to reach for him again, but the realist in her knew it was futile until she discovered a way to project.

Her eyes fell on the other dusty Jedi tomes, a sad reminder of what she was missing. She was searching for the Balance, both for herself and Ben. But it seemed like it was ever only slipping through her fingers.

——-

Watching Rey eat, Kylo considered how strange it was to share a meal with someone again. He’d long been accustomed to small, cold dinners alone in his office. He strongly preferred the silence to being forced into the officer’s mess, where it seemed the eyes of everyone were on him and watching his every bite.

Not so with Rey – her lack of table graces had been slightly distracting at first, but he found he’d come to enjoy her casual manner. Often as not, her dinner was consumed while laying on her stomach, one finger pointing to a page in a Jedi tome with the other hand held aloft her next bite. She chatted amiably throughout their meal, keeping the conversation going for the both of them as she described her time with Reth, or something interesting she’d located in a dusty book.

She either expected his silence or did not mind it.

At first, Kylo had almost chafed at their newly-established dinner routine - he had been such a solitary creature for so long, it felt odd to have someone expect him to come back at a certain hour.

To come _home_.

 _It won’t last,_ the wicked voice of his doubt purred. _It never does._

Even as the voice slipped away, Rey turned to him with a smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. Kylo’s stomach lurched, and he covered the slip with a hasty bite.

 _Don’t let me fuck this up_ , Kylo plead to whatever entity listened to the cries of a murderer. _Not this. Not her._

Rey dragged his attention to some faint line in the tattered book, and Kylo pushed away his doubt to focus on the smell of her hair, the rise and fall of her chest. He slid to his stomach on the bed, laying beside her shoulder to shoulder to study her discovery.

Kylo’s doubts faded to the background in the face of her steady presence, and their now-familiar patterns continued carving themselves into a routine.

\--------

The next night, Rey put her plan into action. After Ben made his drowsy, wandering way back down the hall in the small hours of the morning, she shook the feigned sleepiness from her eyes. Rushing to the closet, she quickly pulled on the black training outfit and her heavy boots.

Grabbing the lightsaber from its place on the wall, she clipped it to her belt. A discarded hair tie helped yank her hair back into a fairly manageable bun, and she was ready to go.

Stealthily, she crept out of the room and through the quiet hallway of the ship. It was nearly 0130, and nearly everyone else would be asleep. Aside from the night crew, that was, but J2 had assured her that it was a skeleton crew under normal circumstances. She had no reason to believe that it was anything other than normal circumstances.

The droids’ metallic voice echoed in her memory as she turned away from the lift, towards the small access stairs partially hidden in the curve of a dogleg. They were meant to be utilized by maintenance workers or droids and were rarely in use this time of the night. J2 had assured her that those assigned to monitor them were – well, “lax” was the word he had used. “Lazy” would have been Rey’s descriptor.

Regardless – she crouched and popped open the small hatch, setting the panel gently to the floor. The access was small, but she had wormed her way through smaller back on Jakku – she’d manage.

 With a grunt, she hauled herself inside, frowning as her hips brushed a little closer to the sides than she had estimated. A wiggle, and she was free to crawl through the confines of the small maintenance duct.

_Straight till the second turn. Go right, then follow till it dead ends. Go down the hatch till floor forty-seven, then turn right again. Follow till the second left, take it. Open the access panel._

Easy – right?

Rey began her crawl, wondering how big of a mistake she was making. She tried to allow her thoughts to rest as she traveled through the ducts, not dwelling on one thing or another but instead letting her problems wash through her mind as they willed.

She was a wash of Ben and the Resistance, with a faint tickle reserved specifically for her absent friends. Despite her worries over all of them, it managed to be an almost pleasant distraction from the goal she was slowly crawling towards.

Before she was truly read to face the problem at hand, she had arrived at the final turn. Mercifully this hatch looked bigger than the last, so Rey wasted no time in popping through into a dark room, the smell of still air hanging heavy around her.

Her movements trigged the automatic lights, the bulbs popping as they flared to life. The shower of dust from those nearest to her suggested a lack of use, confirming J2’s supposition that no one would miss what she planned to remove from this room.

Rey had quite the hunt ahead of her.

Despite her surety that she would not be discovered, Rey walked as if stepping on the shifting sands of a loose dune. Rows of shelves holding rows of crates greeted her, and she grabbed the one closest to her carefully. She had to start somewhere.

Cracking open the lid, she smiled down at the gear stashed within. Rey felt sure she would find what she needed in this room.

The hours bled away as Rey moved methodically from crate to crate, lost in thought.

\-----

Rey was holding the papers in her small hands, reading over his words haltingly. Was it his penmanship or her comprehension that was slowing her? Kylo felt sure her opportunities for more advanced schooling would have been lacking, to say the least. He wondered if she minded.

She reached his scribbled through words regarding her and chortled out a happy laugh. Kylo blanched, having completely forgotten those thoughts has been included. Her smile faded as she continued reading, finally reaching the words about his mother.

After a pause, she looked up at him again. The expression she wore was one of determination, resolve. “We can do this, right? We can fix it all?”

Kylo looked at the list again, frowning. “Maybe not all of it.”

Rey shrugged. “We can only try. What does that look like?”

That conversation continued long into the small hours of the morning, the goals Kylo had previously outlined becoming more solid.

\-----

“You summoned me, Supreme Leader?”

“Yes - General Hux, I have an assignment for your strategists.”

“Yes sir.”

“I need them to calculate the best way to eradicate slavery from the galaxy.”

“Excuse me, Ren? That’s impossible, the slave worlds will revolt, half our backers are slavers themselves. Or at least heavily involved in the trade. Slavery makes the galaxy run.”

“I don’t recall asking for your opinion, Armitage. Call it a thought exercise for now. You’re dismissed.”

“Sir.”

——-

“Ben?”

“Mmmfph?”

“You fell asleep... and you’re on my leg.”

“Oh. Sorry - I’ll go.”

“No, that’s not - wait. Stay.”

“No. I can’t.”

———-

Despite the gravity of her situation, Rey found her existence on board the Supremacy to be a pleasant one. A week had passed since her after hours scavenging raid, her now-busy days bled into months filled with training, reading, plotting; casual conversations with the brooding man now asleep down the hall. And the evenings – those were Rey’s, and phase one of her project was drawing to a close.

Rey was so near to finishing that she could practically taste it. Excitement hummed through her limbs as she soldered the last little bits together, her fingers relishing in the delicate repair work. She had so little chance to practice, anymore that she feared becoming rusty, and that would never sit well with her. Repairs, restoration, refurbishments – it had saved her life on Jakku.

Rey didn’t want to be the person that could no longer fix things.

With a self-satisfied smirk, she blew off the soldering dust from the join, and held up the helmet for inspection. Despite the late hour and her fatigue, a satisfied grin split her face.

It was not exactly a thing of beauty, but it was certainly fierce. Rey had opted to modify an existing mask to suit her needs, which were not very elaborate. The black helmet was a streamlined design, something of bastardized Mandalorian mask with a slimmer profile. There was no death-head symbolism as the Monk’s had – in many ways, it was still a common helmet, indiscernible from anyone else. Rey’s only personal touch had been to add small chrome lines down the front, crossing over the eyes and meeting where her mouth would be, serving no purpose other than simple decoration. It was efficient – nothing more, nothing less.

And most importantly – no one could recognize her with it on.

She stood, carrying her project to the ‘fresher and standing before the mirror with it cradled in her arms. Somehow, Rey sensed that putting the mask on would symbolize a change, a crossing over. This was one of the great stepping stones of her life. She’d had many of them, already – but this one, she was staring in the face.

It frightened her.

Reaching for the Force, Rey closed her eyes and allowed herself just to feel. The mask in her hands was not a living thing, but it felt like she had infused a part of herself into it. It seemed the Force thought so, too, giving off the faintest of glimmers when she sought for it. A tiny flicker, nothing like the strange blue flame her lightsaber cast in that muddy stream.

But she sensed no reproach, no recrimination. It hummed with power; no sense of disharmony. The Force was content.

And so, Rey allowed herself to be, as well. She slid the mask over her head, latching the bottom with care to avoid pinching her skin. Staring at herself through the amber glare of the lenses, Rey watched her as her reflection morphed into a completely different person. The sand-colored togs she once favored had given way to black and shades of grey – the deep black of her helmet against the black fabric of the training suit she wore made her seem like more a specter than a scavenger.

She felt this way even without the heavy cowl and overtunic she had scrounged, which completed her outfit. They lay on the bed, but Rey couldn’t bring herself to put them on and complete the transformation.

She swallowed heavily, running her fingers down the chrome stripes and watching her reflection mime the action.

Rey of Jakku was vanishing, being replaced piece by piece with the Hand of the Knights of Ren.


	26. Chapter 26

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

“Concentrate, scavenger girl. You’re overthinking this.”

Rey opened her eyes and flopped backwards on the floor, exasperated. “It can’t possibly be both that I’m overthinking and that I need to concentrate. It’s a contradiction!”

Reth chuckled harshly. “Now you’re beginning to understand.”

Rey groaned and covered her eyes with her arms.

“Are you trying to tell me that Rey of Jakku, owner of half of the most fucking majestic Force Bond in the history of the universe, can’t manage to send a tiny little insignificant message to our venerated mutual former Jedi Master? Pull the other one.”

Rey ground her palms into her eye sockets. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. It’s like he keeps... moving away from me. I can run and run and still he’s just past my fingertips.”

“If you can’t even do this, how are you ever going to be able to tell who is lying to you? Who wants to hurt your precious _dark prince_? You are the Hand. Your job is possibly even more important than his. You have to surrender to the Force for this to work. Let it flow through you. It already is, but you have to stop hindering it. Be aware of it, and unaware of it. Try again.”

Rey sat up, looking exasperated. “You forget, we made up the Hand. There wasn’t a Hand before me. And there’s no way I’m more important than the Supreme Leader. You been dipping into the spice, Reth?”

“You forget, we made up the Knights of Ren. There wasn’t a Monk before me.”

Rey groaned.

Reth chuckled, without malice. “You aren’t looking at things from the correct perspective.”

“Oh, and you are?”

“That remains to be seen, doesn’t it? Now - again. Concentrate.”

\-------

“Like this?”

“No – more like…” Large hands on her hips, repositioning her stance. The ghost of those handprints burned as Ben’s hands returned to his side.

“Mmhm, I see.” She didn’t see. She was far too distracted.

“Swing again, then bring your left foot up to sidestep.”

“This might be easier if we could actually, you know – fight.”

Ben chuckled, low and quick. “It would. Go again.”

Rey stepped forward again, bringing the hilt closer to her face as she moved her left foot as instructed. It felt ridiculous.

“Better. Again, with feeling.”

\-------

“Let’s try this another way. What’s the most powerful thing you’ve ever done in the Force?”

Rey closed her eyes thoughtfully, leaning back a little on one of the floor cushions she had freed from the storage compartment in the training room. They smelled a bit like old sweat, but she was tired of having to always sit on the floor. “I’m not sure, honestly. Individually, probably healing Ben after we, uh - you know. He had some pretty severe wounds.” _His face was a charred ruin, and his arm was peeled like a fruit. There was a burning, gaping hole through his thigh muscle. He stank like smoke and death. Burned flesh._ Rey gave an involuntary shudder at the memory, her stomach churning.

“Do you remember how it felt?” Reth fiddled with the cartouche as he spoke, looking lost in thought.

“Of course - impossible to forget. I couldn’t take feeling his pain. I had to make it go away - so I did.”

“No... Maker, that’s just completely nauseating - how did it _feel_? How did it feel to knit his skin back together, to close the wounds? How did it feel in your spirit, in your hands, in your head?”

Rey closed her eyes, trying to remember. The memory was muddied by her extreme stress and exhaustion. She had to dig deep. “It felt like... threads. Stitching. Like sewing a wound closed, but instead of a thread or a cauterizer I was using... the Force. Pouring out of myself.”

Reth fell backwards against his own cushion, whooping and pumping his fist in the air. “Yes! Finally. That’s what I’m talking about, Rey. The threads. The web. That’s the Force - well one type of manifestation of it anyways. You feel them, you can control them. Now, we’re finally getting somewhere.”

\-------

Kylo rapped lightly on Rey’s door, a little earlier than their usual dinner time. He held the small packet of food in his left hand, stupidly feeling nervous, of all things. He stood helmetless in the hallway, having already discarded it in his room along with his gloves and heavy surcoat.

Rey answered quickly, her quizzical expression turning to one of surprised happiness. “You’re early! Come in. I haven’t ordered dinner yet, what do you want?” She beckoned him inside, all smiles.

Ben shook his head, holding up the small bag. “I’ve got a different idea.”

Rey quirked an eyebrow skyward. “Color me interested. What are you thinking?”

“I know for a fact that the training room is empty tonight.” _Because I kicked everyone out from it and the entire floor, because I’m the Supreme Leader and I do what I like. “_ We could work on forms?”

Her grin was sunshine, soothing any worry he had about her thinking it was a stupid idea. She disappeared for a moment, pulling her boots on ungracefully and grabbing her saber from its place on the wall beside Chewbacca’s bandolier.

Moments later, all thoughts of dinner forgotten, they spun around each other in an empty room, both stretching muscles that hadn’t been used in weeks. Thrust, parry, step back, lunge, block, dart, roll, spin, duck, repeat in a different order. Kylo felt _good_. It had been too long since the last time he had a proper duel, instead of just a spar alone in the training room. All his muddled thoughts about the Resistance, his mother, the First Order and the war melted away as he focused only on the feeling of his saber, the electricity in the air, and the crackling spark of ozone snapping as their blades collided.

They had been fighting for nearly forty minutes now, with neither of them gaining an advantage. Footfalls and blows and parries were in step with another, synchronized through the Bond. The crashing of their sabers was harsh, but there was no real danger to either of them.

Rey blocked his downward blow easily, ducking around his back to menace him from another direction. He spun, sweeping his leg out to knock hers from under her and blocking her thrust. A Force push, and Kylo twisted her saber away from her to skitter across the floor at last. She paused, hands on her knees, panting and laughing.

He sheathed his saber, the strange off-kilter crackling gone from the room. Rey’s smile tugged at the corners of his heart, almost causing his own to slip out unawares. To cover it, Kylo reached a hand down to help the girl back to her feet, which she accepted quickly., Rey planted a brief kiss on his sweaty cheek before turning to retrieve her saber. The burn of it soared down in the pit of his stomach, and his face flushed in response. Kylo hoped much of his blush was gone before she turned around.

“Gods, this feel amazing.” Rey stretched, the fabric of her shirt tightening across her chest. Kylo did his best not to stare but had a feeling he was failing. Something playful skittered across from her side of the Bond, and somehow, he got the impression she was doing this on purpose.

Perhaps… no. Not yet.

He reignited his saber with a stomp, the red blade held down and to the side. Rey spun around, her blue blade flaring back to life as she charged from across the room. Kylo grinned, bright and feral, as their blades crashed together once more.

\-------

“So, you’re telling me that cat I saw - that’s Hux’s cat?”

“Yes.”

“That’s ridiculous. Who has a cat in space?”

“Armitage Hux does.”

“That’s a ridiculous name.”

“Her name is Millicent.”

“That’s almost worse.”

\-------

Hot, curious lips. Warm hands, searching, questing around her neck, in her hair, over her shoulders, down her arms. Warm breath on her neck, lips to match, tickling the base of her throat. Everything that was Ben was fire, and Rey enjoyed the burning.

\-------

Ben was asleep again, slumped over with his head against the wall, hand splayed over the open page they had both been studying. Rey checked the chrono - it was well past midnight ships time, the small hours of the morning. She supposed she must have fallen asleep as well. They had finally found another small section on the Balance of the Force, leading them to something called the Grey Path. From what scraps of information in the text, they had been able to divine that the Grey Jedi rejected both the Jedi Code and the Sith Code, striving instead for a balance of morality between the two.

Rey had been fairly baffled that it wasn’t a standard practice from the start.

“This, Ben. This is what we need!” The Force inside her had danced in elation. This! This is what it had wanted. A balance.

He had shaken his head, looking distinctly sad. “Maybe for you, Rey. I don’t think this is... right for me.”

She stilled. “Why not?”

“I don’t think I can get back.” _I’m a monster,_ came the voiceless words, _I’ll never gain even muddy stripes of Light._

“That’s not true, Ben. You know it’s not.” _I can see your Light. It’s small, but it’s as bright as mine. You have a choice._

They had fallen silent for a long time, gone back to reading. Ben’s long fingers fiddled with the corners of each page before he turned it, lost in melancholy. His right arm was slung around her shoulders, keeping her close to his body. Rey had only half scanned the words on the page, instead focusing on the regret she felt rolling off the man beside her.

She had fallen asleep wondering how she could convince him he was not lost.

Putting that mystery aside for the moment, she continued to watch Ben in his restless slumber. It seemed to Rey that he liked to push himself to the edge of exhaustion, generally falling asleep in places other than his own bed and in the middle of some other activity. She frowned, noticing not for the first time the dark circles under his eyes. Ben twitched in his sleep, nearly knocking the book to the floor. He didn’t look peaceful - even in sleep, anxiety furrowed his brow and set his jaw.

It was slow going, but Rey wiggled out from his heavy arm and crawled from the bed without disturbing him. The ancient book was removed carefully from under his hand and closed after marking the page for later reference. She sat down again at the foot of the bed, removing his heavy boots with caution and care.

The memory of their meeting after the Resistance’s near decimation replayed in her head as she undid the weighty clasps, pulling off both boots and setting them gently on the floor by the side of the bed. _I don’t need comfort._ His acerbic words had been designed to drive her away, but she had felt the loneliness in him. The empty aching in the Bond.

_You’re a liar, Ben Solo. All you’ve ever wanted was someone beside you._

It was evident in the halting way he pulled her close, clearly wanting her to stay but fearful of pushing his luck. It echoed in the hesitant, hungry way he kissed, pulling himself away as if afraid to scare her off.

Luckily for Ben – Rey did not scare easily.

She couldn’t get him under the covers - but she could get him under his greatcoat. Fetching that from the back of his chair, Rey draped it around his body the best she could, finally settling for covering his torso and leaving out his lower legs.

Satisfied, she grabbed the text and turned for the door, but stopped before her hand brushed the controls. It felt wrong. Her empty room seemed distant and cold, but she couldn’t stay here, either. Her cheeks burned as she recalled Ben’s refusal from a few evenings ago, how he had stumbled down the hall half asleep rather than stay with her.

Fuck it - she wasn’t Ben. She could stay. She’d take her chances with his annoyance tomorrow. Snapping off the lights, she let the room be illuminated only by the faint starlight from his small window. Rey set the book down on the desk and curled up in his chair, drawing her legs to her chest and resting her chin against them.

Sleep retook her quickly, the dozy feeling of companionship stilling her mind and cushioning her bones.

When she awoke hours later, it was she that lay under the heavy coat on his bed. Ben was gone, but the lazy warmth of him remained. Rey let that feeling seep through the Bond, finding it cracked just enough for him to feel her.

\-------

Stillness and peace. Soft breaths, ghosting over his skin like an ocean breeze. Gentle kisses, sweet as summer rain. Fingers running like water down his skin, over his scars, his imperfections. Washing it all away. Everything that was Rey was peaceful, and Kylo craved the rest.

\-------

“The Resistance continues to destroy itself from the inside out. Our sources tell us that the infighting is only growing worse - that separate factions are resorting to dogfights and attacking their own bases.”

“There have been reports that Leia Organa has been displaced as the leader, which may be leading to this split. There are conflicting reports on this point - our sources inside Holdo’s camp have seen the Senator near the Admiral, along with her brother, the Jedi. However, our man in the breakaway faction maintains that the scuttlebutt there is that Leia and the Jedi are unwilling participants and don’t hold with Holdo’s ideals.”

“Sources inside Holdo’s faction tell us she is gearing up for a final act that will crush the separatists - but details regarding that strike are inconclusive at best.”

“One thing is certain - the main threat to our hold on the galaxy has been nearly eradicated. Our position is secure. Over half of the senators in the New Republic are already in our pocket, and many of the others are sniffing around. The Resistance is dying. It’s our belief this war will soon be coming to an end.”

\-------

Days passed, and Rey had put off the inevitable for as long as she could. Still damp from her trip through the ‘fresher after another dinner-and-a-duel, Rey studied her mask and outfit. She’d pulled them from her hiding spot under the bed and laid them on the covers, debating with herself. She should tell Ben. Rey knew that, rationally, both in the Force and in her conscience. But the desert told her to keep her secrets close, and any advantage that she had was one to be closely guarded.

 _Even from him?_ She worried her bottom lip, hands resting on her hips. _Yes_ , the sands whispered. _Even him._

Checking to be certain the Bond was closed, Rey licked away the small drop of blood her tooth had freed. She really needed to stop that habit – Reth called it a tell, had been trying for weeks now to get her to quit.

But if there was one thing Rey was sure of, it’s that old habits died hard.

Months of changes – months of _Ben_ \-  compounded on months of training, months of worry, months of slinking through the corridors like a shadow on this ship that wasn’t quite her home. So much had changed – and still the desert bit at her heels.

An exhalation, and Rey dropped her towel to the floor. She wiggled into the pants, thin-strapped undershirt and overtunic, straightening the thick fabric so it settled correctly over her hips and thighs. Pulling on her socks and boots, Rey eyed the cowl and mask remaining on the bed. The empty visor band of the mask stared back at her benignly.

Right now, she was still Rey. Put those on – and she was the Hand.

Nothing to be done for it, they were both stepping ever closer to a galaxy-wire fire neither of them had the capacity to extinguish. If Rey wanted to survive – if she wanted Ben to survive – she must adapt. Stagnation meant death.

She needed this edge, this advantage. She was the Hand. She would keep him safe.

Quickly, before she lost her nerve, she latched on her mask and slipped the cowl overtop, allowing it to fall around her shoulders. Rey stepped out the room, finding Reth leaning casually against the wall by the lift. It startled her for a moment, but only for a moment. Rey had not expected him to be in his full garb, though she supposed to made sense. The deaths-head mask leered at her, and her stomach quailed before she mastered it.

She was the Hand. The Monk was no danger to her.

“Well met, fellow Knight.” The Monk purred, pushing off from the wall and stepping towards her. Rey stood stock still, letting him pace around her in a mockery of an inspection. “You’ve done well. The chrome – it’s a nice touch, princess.” The words hissed in the air around her, the vocoder making them strange to her ears after months of his natural voice. Stopping his circle before her, the Monk gestured with one gloved hand towards the lift. “Shall we?”

“Yes.” The vocoder in her own mask deepened her tone, making it a rough mockery of itself. She was unrecognizable.

Now it was time to begin.


	27. Chapter 27

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Rey stepped off the lift in the wake of Reth’s black cape, both energized and terrified. They were on some upper command level – some place Rey had never gone, had never hoped to go. Reth’s words from this morning rebounded in her memory, straightening her back and squaring her shoulders.

_You think this mask will make you conspicuous? Never. It gives you more freedom than you can possibly imagine. The trick is to let it. Walk like no one will bother you – and they won’t._

She had balked when Reth had told her the plan – to throw her to wolves, so to speak, to wander the corridors of the ship openly as the Hand.

 _Shouldn’t I practice with you first?_ Rey had said, unsure of this course of action _._

_You know me, dustball. How exactly is it practicing if you’re not afraid of me anymore?_

_Who says I was afraid of you in the first place?_ She had crossed her arms over her chest defensively, eliciting a laugh from Reth.

_Every line of your body. Which is why you need me, even if you don’t want to admit it._

But now, Reth said nothing, simply leading her through windings halls till she could no longer hope to return on her own. Despite his assurances to the contrary, Rey was terrified that word of this would get back to Ben. Of course, he had rolled his eyes at this worry earlier.

_Even the Supreme Leader doesn’t know everything. That’s your job. It’s my job. We’re the eyes, the ears. The hands, if you will. Besides – this will teach you to lie. And that’s a skill only you can teach yourself._

Reth was overconfident. Ben knew more than he let on.

But here she was – following him all the same. Rey quickened her steps, moving to walk beside Reth instead of behind him. She was no weakling. She had survived much worse than this. _Swallow your fear, sand rat._

Reth inclined his head, signaling Rey to remain quiet. They stalked through the hallways, nearly deserted at this hour. Still, the two specters occasionally crossed paths with the chance black-uniformed officer, who either crossed the hallway to avoid them or simply ignored the two masked figures haunting the halls. The more they walked, the more Rey relaxed. Reth was right – no one wanted to bother them. Her steps quickened to match Reth’s, not content to be his shadow. Rey wasn’t sure, but she almost felt a wave of approval from the Monk.

Her newfound confidence deserted her again as they rounded the corner and came face to face with Armitage Hux. The redhead stopped just short of knocking into Rey, the neutral expression on his face curling into a sneer as he beheld the two of them.

He groaned as he stepped back, head swiveling up and down as he examined the two Knights. “Lovely, the cockroaches are multiplying. I thought just one of you miscreants was back on board, but I appear to have been mistaken. Which one are you again?” Hux narrowed his eyes, peering into the depths of Rey’s mask. She straightened her back, tilting her chin upward to meet his gaze. Something in Hux’s blue eyes snapped, and he looked away from her quickly. “It’s no matter. You’ll be off again doing who knows what shortly, and my ship will once again be free of your filth.”

“I’d take a closer look at your ship, General, it looks plenty dirty to me.” Rey ground out the words with a confidence she did not feel, the mask giving them a bite she had not lent them.

Hux sneered, shouldering her out of the way as he stepped between her and Reth. “I haven’t the time for you. Scuttle off elsewhere.” He strode away down the hall, boots clicking in an irritated manner. Rey watched his retreating figure, suddenly understanding Ben’s near-constant irritation with the general.

The man was a prick.

Reth grabbed her elbow in his gloved hand, giving it a gentle tug as he signaled her back towards the elevator. Rey followed him in relief, hands still trembling slightly from the unexpected brush with danger. That was quite enough of this for tonight.

Safely ensconced in the lift, Reth pulled off his helmet and signaled for Rey to do the same. She undid the latch with sweaty fingers, her cowl falling around her shoulders as she lifted the heavy mask from her face. She felt sure her hair was in disarray, her cheeks red and sweaty. Not exactly her best look.

Reth looked her up and down, shaking his head. “You’ve got to let go of your fear and _trust_ yourself, little girl. You lack confidence.”

Rey narrowed her eyes. “I did just fine. I didn’t let him push me around.”

“Only because I distracted him. You were prey before a predator, he would have eaten you alive.”

“Hux -”

“Hux is a weak-minded fool, easily unfocussed with even the simplest of tricks. All I had to do was whisper, and suddenly he had something to do three decks below.” Reth was studying his gloved hand with interest, making a grand show of dusting them off. Clearly, he was intending Rey to be impressed with this revelation.

It worked. Rey felt silent, remembering the change in the general’s blue eyes before he had stalked off. _Reth – that had been Reth._

The possibilities of such a power uncoiled before her, the Darkness in her sniffing around her thoughts with interest. But instead of being afraid, her curiosity was piqued. She snapped her head back from the floor, staring into the Monk’s brown eyes. “Teach me.”

He chuckled darkly, something lurking in the depths of his gaze that Rey still did not trust. “I intend to.”

\-----

After a full week of late nights stalking through various corridors alongside Reth, crowded and uncrowded alike, Rey sat on the floor of the training room at their usual morning time. Her mind was still whirring, her guilt at keeping secrets from Ben eating away at her esophagus like a sore. She felt like she couldn’t talk to him without the words leaping out, so she had taken to keeping the Bond closed more often than not.

She wondered if he had noticed. It didn’t seem like it – their dinners were just as comfortable as always, the discussions lately seeming to revolve around the report they had received back from Hux regarding the issue of slavery. They were at an impasse as to how to yank the rug out from under the galaxy – all at once, or bit by bit. They were no closer to reaching a solution, but at least it kept the conversation away from… other things.

The other side effect of this secret keeping was that she found herself talking to Reth far more than she had bargained for. And now, in this lull in their practice, she had something else to ask the Monk.

“Reth - what do you know of the Grey Path?”

The Monk narrowed his eyes. “Not much - that it was a small subset of the Jedi who rejected their code but wouldn’t fully embrace the Dark. I believe that they mostly allowed their own internal morals to guide them. Why do you want to know, princess? Thinking of getting your hands dirty and becoming less than a perfect bastion of the Light?” A toothsome smile accompanied the statement, a wicked tease hidden in his eyes.

“Reth, if you knew me at all -”

“Ah, but I do know you, sister. And I know you’re already not as pure as you project. I also know things are never as black and white as they seem. The world is shades of grey. I believe that’s why the Jedi were doomed to fail. There is evil in this world, certainly. But there is never anyone that is totally a purely white knight, no matter how many fairy stories we tell. It’s impossible.”

“So, you don’t think it’s... ridiculous, if I wanted to find the Grey Path?” She remembered Ben’s reticence, and the tickle in the Force aching for her the find the balance.

“I’m saying I think you already are. There’s only one Jedi left - and you aren’t it. And this has now taken up entirely too much practice time. On your feet - now, we really need to work on reading the clues your opponent is already giving you through their body language. You can learn so much just by watching...”

——-

The next morning, Rey inspected the new lineup of bottles on the sink counter. They hadn’t been there that evening, she was sure of it. There was no note, but only two beings had unrestricted access to her quarters - J2 and Ben. It wasn’t like she needed much of a clue.

She popped the lid on the shampoo bottle and inhaled. A wide smile spread over her face as the fresh, earthy scent of a forest tickled her nose, reminding her of the thin-needled trees she had seen on Takodana.

\-----

Kylo was sat in yet another morning meeting, listening to yet another underling drone on about something or other he truly struggled to pay attention to, even after nearly three months of practice.

He suddenly had a lot more empathy for Snoke’s ill tempers and rushed informational sessions. This shit was _tedious_. He struggled to keep his thoughts in this room, in this moment, instead of letting them spin him across the galaxy in search of answers to the problems still weighing heavy on his mind. Slavery. Poverty. Fear and war and death.

A word – just one, but it was all he needed – cut through the fog of his reverie and snapped him back to full attention.

_Leia._

To his right, Hux leaned forward as well, a frown creasing his normally imperious features. “Say that again, Commander.”

“Our intelligence reports indicate that Leia Organa’s faction of the Resistance has fallen to Holdo’s. She has been taken prisoner under the guise of negotiations, and most of her support has been wiped out.”

Kylo’s stomach dropped to his boots, but Hux’s expression soared. “Excellent – this is excellent news, Commander. Why were we not notified immediately of this development?”

The Commander swallowed, visibly nervous. “The report came in moments before the meeting, sir. This was the first available opportunity.”

Kylo broke in, leaning forward. “If more information comes through, notify myself and General Hux directly, Commander.”

The small man nodded, swallowing a large lump in his throat. “Sir. Supreme Leader. Yes sir.”

Kylo stood, suddenly unable to suffer through this meeting any longer. _My mother._ “Where are we on a location for Holdo? The end of the Resistance is close, we need to be ready. Why haven’t we found her yet?” His temper rose red and angry in his vision.

A general on the holoscreen responded, looking down at his datapad held off camera. “We’re still searching, Supreme Leader, she covers her tracks -”

“Find her.” Kylo growled, feeling his grasp of his anger slipping away. _My mother. She has my mother._

“Yes, Supreme Leader.”

“Divert other resources. I want her found immediately. Every report we’ve received over the last few months indicates she is not only the last major threat to our power, but that she has a plan that will shake the galaxy. She is our last obstacle.”

Kylo pushed back from the table, causing the others to stand as well. Clearly, the meeting was over even if others had reports to give. He needed to take action. He needed to recall the other Knights.

He needed Rey.

“Dismissed. I think you all understand perfectly well what your tasks are.” The room rumbled, but Kylo didn’t stay to hear their affirmations. He had work to do – real work.

But first – he needed Rey. He opened the Bond, feeling for her, but found it still closed from her side. The thought troubled him for only a moment, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. He slid into the lift, shutting the doors with the Force. He had put more power than he had intended into the gesture, and a few sparks fizzed from the control panel. Kylo grimaced. He needed to control himself.

His hands shook as he removed the datapad from his side pocket, keying up the messenger. Three separate messages, going to two different planets, calling home the Heavy, the Sniper, and the Rogue.

_Revert to the Supremacy immediately. Report back with your time of arrival._

No further explanations – none were needed. He was the Master of the Knights of Ren. He was the Supreme Leader.

He was afraid.

The lift dinged, the doors opening with a new groan at their floor. Kylo rolled his eyes behind his mask as he stalked out – Hux was surely going to have something to say about that later.  Kylo stomped down the hall, anxiety lending weight to his steps. He pulled off his helmet off before he even reached Rey’s door - there was no one to see him. He needed to _breathe_.

He rapped on the door, the usual knock infused with urgency and fear. The room remained silent and still, and he frowned. Opening the Bond again, he gave a hard tug – but her side remained dark and cold, undisturbed even by his rough query.

Before he could speculate any further, J2 rounded the corner carrying a plant mister. He nearly collided with Kylo, clearly not expecting any interference before breezing his way into Rey’s quarters. _Thank the Maker – surely the droid knows where she is._ Kylo kicked himself for not paying more attention to her daily schedule. He was an idiot.

“Oh, Master Ren, I was not expecting you. My apologies. Are you looking for the Mistress?” The droid’s silver eyes glowed, and if Kylo didn’t know better he would have said the droid seemed nervous. He narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, J2, I am. Where is she?”

The droid opened the door to her quarters, setting down the mister before replying. “I should check the training room, Master. I do believe she has been extending her time with the other Knight lately.” The droid’s speech patterned seemed… odd. But Kylo couldn’t dwell on it now.

“Thank you, J2. Please continue.” The droid stepped fully into Rey’s room, shutting the door quickly behind him. Kylo could barely catch a glimpse of the interior of Rey’s room, but nothing seemed amiss. Her saber was missing from the wall, however - surely, she was in the training room.

Fairly running back to the elevator, he jammed his helmet back on as the lift limped two levels down to the smaller of the many rooms where he had set aside a few hours a day for Reth and Rey’s use. It was not a long trip – Kylo had figured the fewer hallways she had to walk, the less chance of her discovery. So far, so good.

_My mother. Holdo has my mother._

The thought turned his stomach as he keyed in the access code, the door sliding open with a huff of air. Kylo stopped in the doorway, momentarily stopped by his shock. All thoughts of Holdo and her twisted Resistance fled his mind as watched two masked figures in black swirling around the open space. Blaster fire and the crackle-snap of a lit lightsaber split the air.

It had to be Reth and Rey. He knew the lines of Reth’s form nearly without looking at him - but Rey was almost unrecognizable; cloaked in black, her face covered by a mask.

Rey and Reth were gone – this was the Monk and the Hand.

She had done it – and Kylo had a feeling it was at the Monk’s goading. She wasn’t ready… she couldn’t be ready.

He hadn’t been paying enough attention.

A bolt of blue singed the trailing tail of her cowl, and Kylo’s stomach lurched. Rey had dodged it successfully, but the sight of it triggered something deep inside his chest; an animalistic urge he couldn’t control. His anger was back, his vision giving way to a shade of dangerous pinky-red. The Force roared in his veins, inky and dark. With a shout, he froze the next blaster bolt in midair, causing the death’s-head mask to swivel his direction.

Discharging the bolt into the cushioned ground, he tore Reth and Rey across the room from each other, aiming Rey for a discarded cushion but far more careless with Reth’s landing. The man struck the wall with a crack, and something inside Kylo grinned.

He stalked to Reth angrily, grabbing him by the neck and throwing him back against the wall. Distantly, he could hear Rey calling for him, but her voice was distorted and warped. It couldn’t reach him now.

“Kylo – Kylo, let me explain.” The slithery tone of the vocoder sounded more strangled than usual, but it didn’t matter. Kylo pressed him harder against the wall, using his free hand to unlatch his own mask and letting it drop to the floor. He stared into the eyes of the Monk’s mask with his natural face, natural voice. He wanted there to be no mistaking his intentions.

“There’s nothing to explain. I gave you explicit – explicit – instructions as to what was off limits. This is so far out of out bounds you may as well be in a different system.” The memory of the man taking aim at Rey flickered behind his eyes again, and he snarled. Ben Solo could not trust the Monk.

Rey was behind him now, her hand on his arm, trying to persuade him to loosen his grip. Her voice was still the garbled growl, having not removed the mask covering her bright eyes.  “Ben – Ben stop.” Kylo ignored her, not even twisting his head her direction. He was careening back down into the Dark, his anger and fear strangling him.

But the smell of pine trees flooded the air around him, and Rey dropped her helmet to the floor. Kylo blinked, some of the red receding from his vision. _Rey. Oh Maker._ He looked down at his hand, still pinning Reth to the wall with his feet dangling several inches from the ground. He dropped him immediately, not bothering to be gentle about it.

Reth sputtered for a moment but stood and rubbed his neck all the same. He removed his helmet, his face red and sweaty underneath. “Maker, Kylo.” He coughed, clearing his throat. “Duly noted, not going to shoot at your little girlfriend again.”

Kylo ignored him, turning instead to Rey who stood silently beside him, her hazel eyes wide. Her chest was heaving beneath the heavy black material, the cowl formerly resting over her mask having slipped from her head to settle around her shoulders.

He felt her fear through the now-open Bond, and was ashamed.

But still – she did not run. A hand on his arm, bringing his gaze back to hers from where it had fallen to the floor. Her eyes were clear and bright, filled with a sense of shame. But not at him – at herself.

“I should have told you.”

Kylo looked at her, seeing her for the first time as the Hand. Her discarded mask stared up at him, the empty eyes with their stripes of silver reproachful. He shook his head, grasping her fingers in his own as they remained against his scar. “No. I should have guessed. And there is no excuse for this reaction. I just -”

Rey nodded, feeling through the Bond what he couldn’t say out loud. His irrational fear for her life had eclipsed any good sense he had ever possessed. Her voice filtered through his mind, holding the faintest trace of anger though her words were intended to be soothing. _I am not made for being kept safe._

 _I know._ He dropped her hand, turning away from her gaze.

Kylo looked now to the Monk, who still rubbing his sore neck and breathing a little heavier than usual. “Reth -”

He waved him off, a glimmer of something hidden in the half smile he gave. “Let it rest, boss. We’ve both done worse to the other.”

As true as that was, it wasn’t what Kylo was going to say. He nodded sharply before continuing. “We aren’t done discussing this.”

Before the Monk could reply, Kylo’s datapad chimed. He fished it out anxiously and read the message quickly. His stomach roiled again, the need for action thrumming in his bones. It was a report from General Aneda. Holdo had been located by chance, in a system practically next door. The Supremacy was leaping to hyperspace as he read the words, the slight lurch felt under his feet even in middecks.

Rey stumbled, still somewhat unused to the feel of the Destroyer’s movements. She looked up at him with uncertainty in her eyes. He met them uneasily, the same emotion echoed back to her. _Rey, I hope you’re ready for this._

Kylo faced Rey and Reth in turn. “Put those masks back on. Come with me. There’s been a development.”


	28. Chapter 28

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Rey was stood nervously in the hangar bay, slightly to the left and behind the ominous stormcloud that was Ben. He hadn’t yet explained the situation to Reth, but on the tense lift ride to the hangar bay he had opened his memories to her, allowing Rey to see exactly what had transpired in the meeting this morning. She traced through his day with growing anxiety, up to and including his perspective on the ill-fated training session he had interrupted.

Despite herself, Rey felt somewhat impressed watching her fight through his eyes. Her practice was paying off – she already felt more confident, more sure of herself, even in this past week of wearing the skin of the Hand. She would need to, she mused ruefully, because as soon as the Supremacy dropped out of hyperspace her skills would truly be tested.

The troop transport before them whined, it’s engines already powered for the drop to the planet they were rapidly approaching. Which Rey didn’t even know the name of.

_Kriff._

She fidgeted with the edge of her cowl, trying and failing not to let her nervousness show. Reth’s eyes were boring holes into the back of her head from his position to her right, and she studiously avoided looking at him.

She was not ready for this.

Ben plunged his datapad back into his pocket, turning to face Rey and Reth once more. With his features once again hidden behind his mask, Rey could no longer see his expression. She felt sure it was grim, however. She could imagine the stubborn set of his jaw, the snapping of his dark eyes. The harsh swallow before he spoke.

The deep growl of his vocoder was low, and he spoke urgently and quietly. “We’re moments from dropping out of hyperspace next to Ord Mantell. The Sniper and the Rogue have been there for quite some time, they’ll be joining us on the ground. The Heavy’s too far away to reach us, and we won’t wait for him - we have to move quickly. We’ve received word of an active Resistance cell deep beneath a mountain range. Intelligence seems to indicate Holdo and General Organa, possibly Skywalker, remain there. I don’t think I need to stress to you that the three of them need to be taken alive.”

No, no he didn’t – this emphasis was for the Stormtroopers eavesdropping to their left. They would receive their own briefing separately, given by the squadron leader; even so, there was no sense in potentially letting on the nature of the relationship between the Resistance leaders and the Supreme Leader.

Reth knew. Rey knew. That was enough.

Reth nodded, widening his stance and placing his hands behind his back. “Yes, Master.” His formality reminded Rey who she was, why she was there. She was not Rey of Jakku in this moment. She was the Hand of the Knights of Ren, standing before the Master and Supreme Leader. The distinction did not matter before Ben and Reth, who knew her. But it would matter immensely before the troopers. Before Hux. Before Phasma and the generals and even the other Knights.

She was playing a part, and she needed to play it well.

Rey squared her shoulders, straightened her spine. She raised her eyes to meet Ben’s gaze through the visor, feeling his unease and resolve through their Bond.

She was not powerless. She had the Force.

Letting it flow through her limbs, it rooted her to the ground, burrowed along her spine, crackled in the tips of her fingers.

“Yes, Master.” She echoed, her voice rough and low through the mask. It jolted Ben, the shockwave of his surprise rippling through their Bond. It only strengthened her resolve.

She would need it. The Supremacy lurched gently under her feet again, and the blue blur of hyperspace resolved into a strange pink-and-brown ball of a planet.

Ord Mantell loomed large below them, an innocent sphere full of ominous possibility. They had arrived, and there was no telling what lay beneath their boots.

A shout, and the assembled squadrons of troopers filed into the transport, followed quickly by Ben. Reth gestured minutely for her to file in next, stalking up the ramp behind her light footfalls. With each step, Rey’s stomach crept further up her throat.

Ben’s cape brushed her hand, and she resisted the urge to ball her fist into it like a small child. Her resolve gave way to anxiety as suddenly this rescue mission – no, a strike, a military strike on behalf of the First Order, against the _Resistance_ \- became very real.

She had chosen a side, very plainly. And she had possibly chosen against her friends. Would she meet them down there, on some battleground neither of them had chosen? Would they die – would she be the instrument of their demise, through self-defense or in protection of Ben?

Was that a choice she would be forced to make?

A warm flood of confidence and resolve wormed its way into her consciousness through the Bond, and Rey realized that Ben must have felt her fear through their link.

 _Concentrate._ His voice, echoing the same timbre of his father’s. Steel wrapped in velvet, shot through with fear. Somehow, the reminder of Ben’s apprehension stilled her own.

They could do this. They had to do this. 

The Resistance – this twisted version of the hope that should live in the galaxy - had Leia. They had Luke. They planned the set the galaxy aflame. Holdo must be stopped.

Rey watched the ramp close behind her, the steel-grey floor of the Supremacy giving way to black space, then the red blur of atmo.

She would be ready. There was no other option.

\-----

Hours later, Rey was half-frozen as they continued to trudge through the thick undergrowth in this Maker-forsaken forest. She kept her mind bouncing back and forth between several different subjects – worry for her friends, curiosity over the two slight figures trailing a few paces behind Reth, unease over the conversation sure to come regarding the altercation this morning.

But mostly, Rey just felt frozen. Her hands were cold. Her nose was running underneath the mask, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The spiny-leaved plants of this kriffing planet had torn through her leggings in several places, leaving her shins cold and bleeding.

 _Thicker pants_ , Rey thought to her herself, _next time, thicker pants_. To be fair, when she had dressed this morning she had not been anticipating anything other than a normal morning of training. She re-wrapped her cowl for the sixth time, trying and failing to close the gap between her mask and the neck of the overtunic.

A rough chuckle echoed in her mind, and Rey startled when she realized she had been projecting. Or that Ben was listening.

 _Holding up, scavenger girl?_ His tone was stilted, but it was impossible to say if their circumstances or the events of this morning were causing the divide. What a day it was shaping up to be.

Rey exhaled harshly, pausing for only a moment to stare at the strange pink sky they wandered beneath. Her legs ached, her hands were stiff and frozen. But her fear propelled her along, the all-consuming desire to reach Leia, to find Luke, Chewbacca, her friends kept the fire burning in her chest. _Holding up. You?_

The mental equivalent of a grunt tickled her ear, and Rey grinned under the mask.

_We’re getting closer. If the ship had dropped us any nearer in, we’d have lost the element of surprise –_

_\- And when we drop those troopers on their heads after we try to extract our targets, they won’t be expecting it. I understand, Ben, you don’t have to explain it. I’m fine._

They continued moving in their silent column, five black figures nearly invisible in the waning daylight of this strange planet. Though Rey’s internal clock said it was barely after lunch, the planet seemed to believe it was closer to dinner, and the candy-floss clouds were giving way to a strange fiery sunset. The sun’s warmth was rapidly deserting the planet’s surface, leaving behind only the wet cold. She wrapped her arms around herself, no longer caring that it looked weak. _Fuck it, Ben and Reth both know I freeze. These other two are going to figure it out eventually._

 _Keep going, Rey._ Ben was tired, it was plain even in his mental voice. They had been walking for hours in the cold and damp. Rey felt sure that even he, who held so much fire in his chest, felt the bitter ache of it in his bones.

 _You won’t have to carry me, if that’s your concern._ She chuckled, stumbling over an exposed tree root but righting herself quickly. _I can handle myself._

 _In the desert,_ the voice of her doubt chuckled. _In the shifting sands and overbright sun, you’re a natural. In the dark, in the cold, you’re a little lost girl._ Rey pushed it back angrily.

Ben barked back a laugh, quick but bright. _Who said anything about carrying - you missing Takodana?_

Rey smirked, remembering her pine-scented shampoo. _Are you?_

The deep flush of his embarrassment lent some warmth to Rey, and she quickened her pace once more. They had to be close. Surely only moments.

Before she could speculate any further, Ben held up a gloved fist, shooting a quick _stop_ to her through the Bond. Rey halted immediately, regretting it as her feet quickly began to ache once their constant movement was still.

 _This fucking sucks._ She instantly felt guilty for the thought. Somewhere nearby, her friends – no, her _family_ \- could be captured, or wounded – or worse. And here she was, complaining of the cold and blisters. Their faces flashed in her mind, slack and still in death.

Any complaint she had was meaningless in the face of their suffering.

Ben had crouched, creeping forward slowly and issuing a command to follow with a flick of two fingers. Rey sunk low, knees creaking as she crept along the forest floor behind his dark shadow. Behind her, she sensed Reth and the Sniper and Rogue following suit, a quintet of shades eeking closer to the wide maw of the hole in the earth. Rey hadn’t been sure what she had expected, but it wasn’t this. There was no slight cave opening necessitating single-file entry, this was a great wound in the face of the mountain they had traversed. Gaping, hanger-wide. Rey felt small in comparison, reminded again of scrambling over the bones of downed star destroyers.

She steeled her nerves, reaching out for the Force with a desperate cry. It rushed upon her as a bright streak in the waning light. Fire ran down her backbone, stilling the fear in her belly. _My friends. My family. My family. My family._

One by one, they entered the mouth of the cavern. The drip-a-pat, pitter-splat of water droplets echoed through the darkness, muffling their already soft footfalls. Ben was a ghost, somehow managing to perfectly blend in alongside the gloomy walls of the cave. Rey could only hope she followed suit. She was woefully unprepared for this.

They turned down a dogleg, voices swimming into focus as the smell of cooking food reached her senses. Firelight flickered and danced, casting shadows on the walls before them. Yes -  this was the right location. But with every step closer, Rey was surrounded with a growing sense of wrongness.

Ben was picking up on it as well – his steps slowed till he stopped again entirely. Without turning to look at her, Rey could feel him struggling to hold open the Bond – with alarm, she realized her side was slipping closed as well, drowsy like eyes heavy with sleep.

 _Force – natural dampening field. Can’t control it. Run – Rey, if – run._ Ben’s voice was truly worried now, skipping and fluttering in and out of her mind as their grip on the Bond slipped away. Another moment, and darkness descended on her. It was first time Rey had felt silence in her mind, in her spirit, in her very marrow since – oh, since far before her arrival on Ahch-To. It was suffocating.

_Leia – that’s why I’ve felt her guttering like a flame in the wind. She’s been kept somewhere like this, possibly for longer than we knew._

Ben never turned around, continuing to stare straight ahead at the promise of voices, of their goal. Rey didn’t need to know his thoughts to see the lines of his shoulders tense, the feeling of helplessness that she now felt was surely shared by him despite their Bond falling dark and still.

Reth tugged twice on her cowl. She turned to face him, watching him raise two fingers to his mouth to signal her silence. A gesture by his ear Rey supposed to mean he sensed the desertion of their Force powers, and Rey nodded silently. Reth nodded back, gripping her upper arm in what she supposed was meant to be a comforting gesture as he motioned to his gunbelt. Rey shook her head, pointing instead to her saber. She was far better with even the approximation of her staff-like weapon than a gun, even without the Force as her ally.

Reth nodded, pointing silently to Ben as he replaced the side of his cloak. It was time. Rey had to be ready.

She was not.

Ben held up a hand, counting slowly back from five on his fingers as he stood noiselessly. Reth followed suit, and Rey unbent her knees and placed her hand on the hilt of her saber. She could barely make out the lines of Ben’s body as he did the same.

She struggled to draw in a full breath, continuing to drown in the cool air.

Rey fought to master her mounting panic, suddenly understanding all too clearly why the severing of a Force bond caused insanity. The silence in her head roared, the noises around her booming to overcompensate. The tiny trickle of water down the walls of the cave was a waterfall, the faint crackle of fire as loud as a wildfire. Every fiber of her being screamed for Ben, for the fire of the Force, but it was useless.

He had to feel the same. _Oh Maker, don’t let him stumble, not when I can’t –_

The crackle-snap-roar of the crossguard blade flared to life, and suddenly the cave was full of motion. Rey drew her own saber with a yell, plunging forward to follow Ben’s retreating back into the brightening gloom. Footfalls all around her, and she scanned faces frantically – _Leia, Luke, Chewie, Poe, Finn, Rose – anyone, someone, please be here, don’t be gone._

A red blaster-bolt soared toward her, and she blocked it effortlessly, sending it harmlessly into the roof of the cave with a shower of dirt. _Don’t send it back. They can’t see your face – they don’t know you. Don’t kill your friends. Don’t kill your family. Careful, careful._

They were in the shit. There were far more rebels than they had counted on - far more than five people could handle alone. Especially when three of them were effectively hobbled. The lack of Force ached in her chest, and Rey swallowed her panic and blocked another shot coming right for her head.

Reth’s voice echoed behind her, shouting into his comm for the troopers to make their drop. Rey blanched, knowing that step wasn’t meant to come till later. 

Another blaster bolt, this one aimed towards Reth. She blocked it with a swing of her blade, sending it harmlessly away. A downward swipe, and she lopped the front of the blaster clean off, causing the startled rebel to retreat, his pale face ashen with fear. _Not Finn. Not Poe. Not Rose._

A roar – _Chewbacca?_ from somewhere to her left, but she was unable to see a furry body to match it before she grappled with a near-tackle from an overzealous soldier. Rey hit the ground with a heavy thump, the impact nearly knocking the wind from her chest. Heaving the body of her attacker off her with a mighty shove, Rey rolled to the side, reigniting her lightsaber just in time to see a shock of wavy black hair. _Poe. Poe!_

He paused for only a moment, looking from the blue blade to the depthless eyes of her mask before turning on his heel and fleeing for the mouth of the cave. Rey wanted to call after him, but knew it would be futile. Her voice was changed by the heavy mask, and judging by the fact that Poe had no gun, it was extremely possible he had been held prisoner. _Let him run. The trooper’s guns were set to stun, capture not kill. Let him run. Find Leia. Find Luke._

She watched his back for as long as possible before returning her attention to the fracas, a primal yell tearing its way from her mouth as she sliced through another rebel’s weapon. _Don’t kill. Don’t kill. Don’t let it be your weapon that ends their lives. Don’t. Don’t._

 _Ben. – no, don’t think of Ben_. The panic choked her, she couldn’t feel him, he was gone – no, not gone, concentrate - a parry, a block, an upward cut, a kick to the chest of a stubborn man who won’t back off. _Not Finn. Not Rose. Don’t think of Ben._

_Don’t._

Another roar, and this time a blur of brown fur streaked past her vision just as a red bolt impacted on the wall above her head, a spray of rock and dirt pounding on the top of her helmet. Rey twisted, aiming a kick straight to the chest of her attacker. She did not recognize their face.

A crackle, the red crossguard igniting afresh to her left. She staggered towards it, needing physical proximity to him like she needed air; their connection still dead and dark. The white armor of troopers edged into her vision, the strange _thrwook_ of a stun-bolt dropping another rebel to the ground at her feet. She did not know them.

Stepping over the still face of the man at her feet, Rey put herself between Ben’s back and another angry red blur of light. Her lightsaber cast the energy into the dirt, and a trooper dispatched the shooter before she had the chance to do so herself. Ben’s cloak whipped around her legs as he spun, nearly going horizontal to avoid a shot coming too quick to block. A large hand gripped her thigh, pushing her into the dirt as the shot _whanged_ past the air where her torso had been seconds before. Close. Too close.

But that moment of contact, the assurance that he felt her; that was enough for now. With a roar, Rey rocketed back to her feet, confidence surging again. _Luke. Leia. Find them._

She charged further into the darkness, her hyperactive senses hearing something she had not expected – the whine of the Falcon, coming from the curve ahead.

“Down!” She screamed, hitting the dirt again just as the ship rocketed out through the nearly-too-small opening to roar over her head. The wind whipped back her cowl, nearly tearing it from her head if she hadn’t retied it so tightly. In the cockpit, she could barely see a dark face and a blur of brown fur – Finn and Chewie, it had to be. She could only hope Poe had reached them, and that Rose was also on board.

_Luke. Leia. Find them._

“Two entrances!” Rey bellowed, pointing the direction of the Falcon’s sudden appearance. “There’s another way out!” Her mask made the words savage, her adrenaline pulling her back to her feet more than any conscious decision of her own. She charged down the narrow passageway, sensing more than knowing that Ben and the other dark shadows fell in step behind her.

_No – we’ve come so close. Can’t let them get away._

Rounding the corner with a shower of loose dirt, Ben’s long strides overtook her easily. Reth was hot on his heels, a blaster held in each hand. The Sniper’s long gun was down, the scope off. The rebels in the nook behind them were far more insignificant than the prey that lay ahead – the troopers could mop them up easily. The five of them could take down Holdo. They could end this.

But it was not to be.

The telltale squeaky whine of a long-range shuttle cycling up rang in Rey’s ears, panic quickening her steps till she matched Ben’s pace again. In her gut, she knew it was too late.

They were just in time to watch the ramp raise, the landing gear to tuck into the belly of the shuttle. Through the large ramp window, Rey could clearly see a mop of purple hair. In the cockpit, Leia’s diminutive form peered down from the window, half obscured by a bulky figure holding a gun to her temple. Rey slid to a stop, falling to her knees in the loose pebbles of the cave floor. She kept her eyes locked on Leia till the shuttle sped over her head.

_No – no._

Rey hauled herself to her feet, charging after the retreating rear lights of the shuttle even through Reth’s shout to stop. She could see the second exit – she was so close.

She’d never catch the shuttle. But perhaps, once she was back outside, she could reach them with the Force.

Rey tried hard not to think of the last time she had chased the afterburners of a ship as this one disappeared into the pinky-orange fire of the sunset sky. Stumbling to a halt at the edge of a cliff face, Rey was nearly toppled by the Force slamming back into her body. It burned – angry at being denied. It buzzed in her veins and resounded in echoes in her head, trying to bounce back on the Bond but finding Ben’s side was still dark and empty.

Rey stood at the edge of the cliff, pebbles vibrating around her as she jumped into the least restful meditation of her life. _Master Luke! Leia … General Organa! Feel me, I’m here!_ Rey roared into the ether, searching for the webs and threads Reth kept describing but coming up empty. Nothing. She couldn’t feel them – she couldn’t reach them. It was worse than even before, not even a candle flame to guide her to them.

Rey despaired, her grief and failure pouring out to color the Force around her. But - a tickle, a barest brush of something against her mind; the scent of sea-breeze and a tang of salt. _Master Luke!_ Rey cried, casting her gaze around the river of Force but not finding anything else but the familiar scent. _I’m here, I’m here – I saw the shuttle, do you know your heading? Were you on board?_

Nothing – a breeze, a rustle of tall grass.  He was everywhere and nowhere, unreachable but holding her arms in his hands in a frantic grip. The impression of a half-remembered voice, rough and angry but undeniably his; one word tearing through her mind.

_Run._


	29. Chapter 29

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

“Where’s Holdo now?”

“General, our scanners picked up both ships as soon as they left the planet’s atmosphere. But as you well know, tracking through hyperspace is -”

“I don’t want excuses, Captain, I want – no, I _demand_ results.”

“Yes, General Hux.” 

“We’ve picked up a large number of Resistance fighters, haven’t we? Get them talking. One of them is bound to know something.”

“Yes, General Hux.”

“Would the Supreme Leader care to oversee the interrogations?”

“I leave them in your capable hands, General Hux. Inform me immediately of any developments. In the meantime, begin looking for other areas with a naturally-occurring Force dampening field. She may try that tactic again.”

“Of course, Supreme Leader.”

\----

Long hours after their transport had returned to the Supremacy, Kylo rapped quietly on Rey’s door. She had suffered through the debriefing, keeping her helmet covering her face and slinking out as soon as the meeting was concluded while his duties kept him tethered to General Hux for another hour.

Rey had been barely responsive to the three newcomer Knights. Even the affable Heavy with his innocent questions and wide grin had failed to put her at ease – Kylo had forgotten how much of a child Takeshi still remained. Reth had cajoled her only once, and left her well alone after that. The two blue-skinned Mirialans had regarded her with a steady gaze and silence, which was their usual way.

Rey had regarded everyone with a steady gaze and silence, which was surely not her usual way.

Instead of relief that she had been able to reach his estranged uncle after months of silence, the message she had received from him seemed to deflate her entirely. Kylo would never forget how she looked; standing on the edge of the cliff, backlight by the burning pink sky. She was boneless, collapsing in on herself like a dying star.

He had stumbled; he had been too slow to catch her as the wave of raw Force hit him angrily. It had hummed back into his body and tore the Bond open once more, rushing to meet Rey’s side of the link with a ferocity he hadn’t anticipated. Only Reth’s quick reaction had kept her from falling over the rocky edge entirely, all the adrenaline leaving her body at once.

Kylo had heard her, though – screaming on any frequency available in her efforts to reach his uncle; his mother. _It should have been me,_ he grimaced. _I should have been that desperate, that inventive._ But the wounds from his family ran deep. Despite his own loyalty to them, Rey’s connection to his family was one born from an affection he could never claim as his own.  

That did not mean Luke’s ghostly voice hadn’t shaken him to his core; the single word infused with a desperation he had not thought the grizzled old man capable of.

It had surely shaken Rey. She had been still and noiseless on the transport, barely responding to the curious questions of the two other Knights and only maintaining an open channel with him because she likely lacked the strength to close it. Sensing something amiss, Reth had pulled the Sniper and Rogue away surreptitiously, leaving Kylo seated quietly beside Rey.

He had said nothing, only leaving his gloved hand on the bench between them, palm up. Rey had looked at it for a long moment before placing her trembling hand beside it, their fingers barely brushing. It was all they could manage.

And now, there was no response from within her room. Kylo sighed, leaning heavily against the door way and debating his next course of action. He felt for their link, a sore spot in his mind. The memory of its muted blankness still caused his stomach to turn – strange, how accustomed he had become to the buzz of her in the fabric of his mind, even when they allowed their link to simply reverberate in the background.

Only the practice of years filled with compartmentalizing harsh truths had kept him functional in that dark cave. The agony of not knowing if she was alive or dead had shattered his concentration. The Bond which usually served as his reassurance fragmented into cruel slivers. Kylo had ached for the noiseless comfort constantly operating in the recesses of their minds, burrowing itself in the deep places of his being till they were more themselves together than apart. He’d looked for her at every opportunity, the blue flicker of her lightsaber the only reassurance that she had not yet fallen. 

He’d been lucky, so lucky, that he’d known she was behind him as that streak of red energy had whizzed past.

Her particular hum turned from a murmur to a roar in his ears as he sought her, and a quick glimpse of her circumstances strengthened his resolve. Rey was awake, staring into the empty air with an aching chest and burning conscience; paralyzed by her own looping thoughts.

Kylo knew that particular hell all too well. With resolute stabs of his gloved finger, he keyed in the access code and let the door whoosh open with a soft beep.

Rey opened her eyes, but didn’t stir from her position on the bed. Her hair was still damp from the shower, and she was wearing what he supposed passed for comfortable clothes – torn leggings, and an overlarge black shirt. She stared blankly in his general direction, hazel eyes red and glassy.

Kylo sat on the edge of her bed carefully, watching himself be reflected in her defeated posture. A flash of an unwanted memory – a younger version of himself, flopped across a bed surrounded by rock walls; the sun sinking on a planet he would prefer to forget about entirely. A Padawan’s braid brushed across a damp cheek as he counted his breaths, wondering if the numbness would give way to anger or sadness.

He wondered which direction Rey would swing.

Considering his words carefully, he finally broke the silence with a soft clearing of his throat. “You’re not used to losing, are you.” The scavenger, the eternal survivor, would never have been able to give into her feelings in this manner. The desert would have eaten her alive.

Saying nothing, Rey turned her head his direction. In the starlight filtering in through her window, the winding trails of dried tears down her face were illuminated in an otherworldly glow. His hand twitched toward her cheek, but he thought better of it. Perhaps she would rather be alone.

Closing her eyes, Rey signed heavily and hauled herself to a sitting position. Kylo remained still, gears in his mind whirring frantically as he found himself in the strange situation of being the comforter.

“No. I’m not.” Her voice was raspy, the almost-Coruscanti accent was diminished nearly to the point of invisibility; the words were crackling and rough like she had been screaming for hours.

Perhaps she had.

Kylo studied his hands for a moment, pulling off the black gloves and placing them in his pocket before speaking. “It doesn’t get any easier.” _Why lie?_

A harsh exhalation, almost a chuckle. “You’re so comforting.”

“I’m really not.” _Again – why lie?_

This time, she did laugh – just a small one, ending in a cough. It cheered him all the same.

Rey sighed, hugging her knees to her chest. “Today is not what I expected.”

Now it was Kylo’s turn to suppress a laugh. “Life rarely listens.”

A heartbeat, two heartbeats, and Rey exhaled through clenched teeth. “I owe you an apology. I should – that situation this morning, it shouldn’t have happened. I should have been honest with you from the start.”

Kylo turned his gaze to the black-and-chrome helmet, currently laying innocuously on the top of her dresser. “If there’s anything today has proven, it’s that you were ready.”

 _It was me that wasn’t prepared._  

Looking at her again, Kylo tried to infuse his words with the sincerity of his apology. “My reaction was… poor. If I hadn’t – if my mother -” the words rose and died on his lips, seeming inadequate in the face of the facts.

Rey nodded, taking his meaning even through though the words were lacking. “I forgot your warning.”

Kylo frowned. “What warning?”

“Reth. I forgot – I shouldn’t have trusted him when he said to lie. I should have listened to my own best judgment, but even that wasn’t right. There was no reason to keep it from you – none at all. I feel so twisted up, and not just because of that.”

Her palm smacked onto her forehead, fingers raking into her hair in agitation. “Maker, Ben, I raised a weapon against my friend. Poe… I could have killed Poe.” She carded her hand through damp hair, the scent of pine rising in the air around them.

Kylo’s frown deepened. He had been unaware that the pilot was present in the fray today. Rey turned to face him again, regret etching deep lines on her brow. “He knocked me to the ground; had no way of knowing it was me. I was wearing a _mask_. I was anyone.”

Rey fidgeted with the corner of her blanket, words tumbling from her mouth in a rush. “I almost just _reacted_ – I was so blinded by the loss of the Force.” 

 _With the loss of you._ She paused, her mouth refusing to form the words that rang in both of their minds.

Rey cast her eyes down to the bedcovers once more. “It would have been so easy, just a muscle memory really, and Poe would be gone. My fault. I think – I think he guessed it was me. There aren’t too many lightsabers around, you know.” She laughed mirthlessly. “I can only imagine what they think of me now. If they’re even still alive.” 

On that score, at least, he could put her mind at ease. “The Falcon made it off-planet. We don’t know who was on it, but the Supremacy’s scanners picked up its jump to hyperspace. Holdo’s craft left lomg enough after it that whoever was onboard is well away from her.”

Rey exhaled mightily, sinking in upon herself as some of the tension left her back. “Thank the Maker for small mercies.”

Kylo remembered another conversation regarding her friends, hashed out as they sat on opposite ends of the galaxy what felt like a lifetime ago. So much had happened since then – so much had changed. He knew what her mouth tasted like, the shape of the scar that bisected her middle. The pleasant weight of her asleep against his side. “The truth will out, Rey.”

Rey looked him in the eye again, and he knew she felt the memory of those words the same as he had. “The truth will out.”

She contemplated her knees for a moment, finally venturing her next words with a quaver in her voice. “Do we – is there any news on your mother?” Rey sounded both hopeful and terrified, and Kylo regretted that he carried no comforts for her on that score.

“No. Holdo’s craft made a clean getaway. A small craft like that couldn’t have jumped far, but we’re back to square one again. Though, we’re assuming she’ll try to find another bolthole with a Force dampening ability. We’re focusing our search around that criteria.”

“It makes sense. I’ve been unable to reach Master Luke or your mother through the Force for months – I assumed it was me, but now I think it was their location. I’ve been trying nearly since we got back to raise them again, but aside from that… that one word…” Rey trailed off, tightening her grip on her knees reflexively. “I’ve got nothing. Nothing adds up. But I should have guessed. I could have – I should have…”

Her discomfiture at being helpless swam through the Bond. Kylo studied the backs of his hands, unsure how to proceed. “We’ll find them. There’s only so many places like that cave where she can hide. Sooner or later, her luck will run out.” _I really am a terrible comforter._

“Ben, I’m not sure I can take… that. Again. I don’t know --” Panic crashed into his mind, startling Kylo as Rey broke apart once more. “I won’t -”

Rey couldn’t bring herself to form the words, but the shape of them came through clear. The empty aching in the Bond; the silence where their thoughts and feelings had mingled. The memory still made him sick. It had been so much worse than the week of lockdown after Snoke had been killed; like this time the stillness would swallow him up if he let it. She was so much a part of him, now.

But there were no promises he could make to her. The future was full of empty words, as easily spoken as they were broken. So instead, he said nothing.

She was shaking, and before Kylo could stop himself he had tugged her into his arms, folding himself around her protectively. Rey allowed herself to be held, burrowing her face against his chest and fisting her hands into the fabric of his coat like a small child. She trembled against him; a frail leaf on the wind.

No – not frail, never frail. Rey was the very sun itself, even as she passed through the zenith of an eclipse. 

It pained Kylo to watch see her be brought so low, even while understanding the feeling all too well. He was no sun, but life had cast shadows over him all the same. And he would have given anything for even the smallest modicum of comfort in the deep wells of those times. Instead, he had just become an expert at the fall.

Kylo adjusted his grip, settling into a more comfortable position for them both. He was fully open to her, as she was to him, hetc raw emotion that had been carried within spilling over and over till it was hard to tell where he ended and she began. It had long ago ceased to matter.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay! Between being out of the country and family obligations I've been slow to post. I promise, though - I have through Ch 46 already written, it's just a matter of final edits/review :)

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

The next two days passed in a special sort of agony, with Rey attempting at nearly every opportunity to reach the two lost Force-users while the First Order scoured the galaxy for their purple-haired quarry. No one was making any sort of progress.

Rey remained subdued, drawing back into herself. She had been avoiding Reth, unsure what to say or feel about what had happened between the three of them. Skipping their last two scheduling training sessions, Rey had instead remained in her room. Reth had not attempted to contact her, and Rey likewise had not reached out. She kept J2 close for company as she resumed her readthrough of the Jedi texts in earnest. The droid didn’t seem to mind, alternating between fussing over her existing plants and bringing more in till both Kylo and Rey had to remind him that she did still need some space on top of her dresser.

He had responded by hanging them from the ceiling, instead.

The only good news was that the First Order’s shadow was continuing to eclipse the crippled Senate, with more and more senators cutting deals and slowly shifting the tide to their side. Many systems were beginning to recognize that the New Republic was failing fast, and were unwilling to suffer through another galactic civil war through its death throes. It appeared that their wish for a bloodless transition may well become a reality. Even this news seemed muted, a sense of ill-ease hanging thick in the air around them both.

Kylo found himself staying longer and longer in Rey’s room before retreating back to his own, unwilling to face being alone as the hours stretched into days with no progress. Neither of them spoke much of it, but the feeling of impending doom reverberated in the silences. The Force between them was discomfited, flitting between active and passive with a speed he had found was usually reserved for combat situations.

They were all in a holding pattern, simply waiting.

On the morning of the third day, Kylo knew he had to do something to break up the rut they were wallowing in. There was nothing further to be done by either of them, but still the itch between his shoulder blades goaded him into action. He was getting better at battering back the anger, but the tension hanging in the air was beginning to wear down.

So, he found himself once again in front of Rey’s door at an unlikely hour. It was barely 1100 in the morning, but his schedule was clear for the next few hours barring any developments. The perfect time for some sparring practice.

Kylo pulled his helmet off, hating coming to her with the amber glass of his lenses between them. A soft knock on the door, and Rey appeared wearing a look of surprise.

“Ben? Everything alright?” She furrowed her brow, beckoning him inside with a tilt of her head.

Kylo nodded, but instead of walking in he gestured over his shoulder to the lift. “I’ve got a different idea.” He held up a small package containing sandwiches.

The flat line of Rey’s small mouth tilted upward, remembering the last time he had suggested heading toward the lift with food in hand. “Working on forms again?”

“Something like that.”

Rey was hopping on one foot, ungracefully pulling on her boots – his old boots, he noticed with a pang. “Sounds a hell of a lot better than some dusty old books.” She finally got the stubborn boot over her heel, wiggling her foot into it as she grabbed her lightsaber from it’s place on the wall.

Kylo watched her with no small amount of amusement, though he did not show it outwardly. “Find anything useful in those dusty old books lately?”

Rey shook her head, standing and yanking her loose hair back into a knot at the nape of her neck. “Not especially. Still no good way to reach – nevermind.” She shook her head to clear it, sensing that now was the time to put aside that worry.

Choosing to ignore the train of thought she was busy derailing, Kylo stepped into the lift with Rey close on his heels. They rode upward in silence, Rey fiddling with the ring at the bottom of her hilt. She was full of nervous energy.

The doors opened with a creak – Kylo winced, realizing that the lift still hadn’t been fixed since his overuse of Force – and they entered the empty training room without so much as a glance around them. He had cleared the floor again, regardless – there was no sense in manufacturing additional drama when the Supreme Leader was spotted maskless and in the company of an unknown girl.

Dropping his helmet and their food packet to the floor near the door, Kylo ignited his saber with a lunge. The sudden movement caused Rey to scuttle backwards and draw her own blade, the wicked glint of excitement in her eyes matching his own. Where he held his blade slightly behind him, Rey held hers before her face, a remnant of her training with his uncle. Kylo had long ago spurned that style, the constant reminder of his training a painful callback to what he had lost.

Kylo’s fighting style was far more visceral than the formal way Rey had been trained, and it showed – where her movements were controlled, his were animalistic.

Their Bond was wide open and had been for days, neither of them willing to be the one to close it after feeling the strange absence planetside. Kylo could feel Rey fully – her thoughts, her intentions, the way a loose hair had escaped from her knot, the strand growing damp with sweat as they continued. He knew her next footfall before she made it, the stretch of her arms as she swung her blade upward, matching them perfectly with movements of his own.

He wondered what she was receiving from him in turn.

In sync despite their different styles, their lightsabers crashed into each other with perfect grace over and over again. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with; far stronger together than apart.

After nearly twenty minutes Rey made a misstep, her ankle twisting under her. Kylo’s blade crashed down with just enough force to send her hilt skittering across the floor, the blue fire extinguishing as it left her hand.

He straightened, disengaging his own blade and offering her a hand up. She took it with a sunny smile, the kind he hadn’t seen in days. Kylo almost – but not quite – gave her one in return.

Rey was panting as she wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her tan sleeve. “Teach me. Show me how you fight the way you do.” She stretched out her palm, calling her hilt back to her with a flick of her wrist. It snapped into her hand easily, as it belonged there and no where else. 

“What?” Kylo blinked, a frown creasing his face as her words registered.

“I mean it. Teach me. I still fight with this like it should have a second end - I’m still seeing my staff. Help me see it like it should be seen.” A flash of his request in the forest, in the snow - she had been so frightened. So determined. Fierce. _You need a teacher._

Kylo ignited his lightsaber again but paused thoughtfully instead of charging. An idea niggled at the corner of his mind. “You know... there have been instances of double-sided sabers. Perhaps we should modify yours.” He clicked off his weapon, looking at the hilt as it lay in his palm. Yes - that was the answer. He felt it in his bones. _Why fight against her proficiency?_

Rey looked at him quizzically. “But, this is your grandfather’s saber - Luke’s. Should we... mangle it that way?” She looked down at the hilt in her own hand, scowling and clearly uncomfortable with the idea.

Kylo shook his head, on this point completely clear on this in both his heart and his head for once. “It’s _your_ lightsaber, Rey. It called to you. I can’t wield it and I don’t think I ever will. And somehow, I doubt either my grandfather or Luke would mind the modification if that meant a better chance for you to be protected. But we’ll need a separate kyber crystal. I’m not sure how to do it with just one, and I don’t want to disable your saber entirely on accident.” He palmed his hilt again and sat down, lost in thought.

Rey moved next to him, sitting down herself. She leaned against his shoulder as they comfortably mulled over their problem. Rey was fiddling with something around her neck when she let out a sharp bark of laughter. Kylo turned to look at her, puzzled. She was holding aloft the pendant that generally resided around her neck, grinning like a fool.

_Cute - but confusing._

“What?” He focused on the small rock at the end of the necklace, trying not to be distracted by its proximity to Rey’s chest.

“Ben, look at it.” She slid the cord over her head, handing it to him. As soon as it hit the flesh of his palm, he felt it. A quaver in the Force.

“This is a kyber crystal. A piece of one - but...” Kylo’s saber seemed to rattle next to him, and all at once, he understood. “You got this from my uncle. This is the other piece.”

“What other piece?”

Kylo palmed his saber and passed it to Rey, relishing in the pull in his stomach when she held it. “Have you never wondered why I have the crossguard, why my blade is a ripple instead of steady like yours?”

Rey shook her head, turning the hilt over in her hands. “Honestly, I didn’t give it much thought. I just assumed that’s how some of them were.”

Kylo shook his head, holding the pendant up to the light for a closer inspection. “No. They’re all supposed to be a steady beam. My saber is built from a broken crystal. Since it’s broken, it’s stressed and won’t stay steady. The crossguard acts as a vent for the energy that can’t be contained in the blade.” Kylo paused, turning the pendant over between his fingers and trying to recall his crystal in his mind’s eye. “I think this is another piece.”

“Well then it’s yours, and we can fix your saber.” Rey sounded excited, but Kylo shook his head.

“No. This is yours. I can’t think of a better place for this to be than protecting you.” Kylo blinked, surprised at himself. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He was slipping – it was getting harder to distinguish between internal feelings and external words when it came to Rey.

_Watch yourself, boy. You’re losing yourself._

Plowing on, he spoke quickly as if to clear the words from their shared memory. “Besides - I’m used to my saber. It’s a part of me, now. It calls to me. Changing it... doesn’t make sense.”

_It’s broken, just like me. Can’t make me whole. Can’t make my saber whole. We won’t fit._

He handed the pendant back to Rey, closing her fingers around it gently. “It’s yours. How much do you know about constructing a lightsaber?”

Rey shook her head, loose brown hair brushing his cheek as she did so, her shoulder still pressed against his. “Not much. Only theory.”

Kylo nodded – he had thought as much. “I constructed mine. According to Jedi tradition, you were never fully a Jedi till you fashioned your own lightsaber. They weren’t often passed down -” a nod at the legacy saber Rey clutched tightly - “so much as constructed. I... I have spare materials. I could... help you?” The words came out in a jumble. Suddenly, the idea of helping Rey complete this step seemed all-consuming; it was as if the Force needed this and was imposing its will on the two of them.

_Like that hasn’t happened before. I wonder if she feels it, too._

Rey looked down at their lightsabers, holding them together in her lap. She turned them over as if committing the metal husks to memory, studying their differences. Her hilt a bright silver metal, worn and shined by the hands that bore it over the last fifty years. His, a black, tarnished thing, longer than a typical hilt, with the stubby crossguard vents an awkward comparison to the elegance of her weapon.

She looked at him, excitement flickering in her eyes as she smiled. “Let’s do it. I think - I think we’re supposed to.”

He nodded in agreement, hauling himself to his feet before turning and offering her a hand up. She took it, passing off his saber as she stood.

They left the room, Rey stooping on the way out to collect the bag that contained their sandwiches as he reached down for his discarded helmet. When Kylo shot her a look, she shrugged. “I’m not used to missing meals anymore.” She dug out a packet wrapped in waxy paper, handing it to him before grabbing the second one for herself.

They ate the sandwiches in a lift pregnant with expectation and apprehension as they returned to his quarters. This step felt both rushed and right, like some great cosmic being was pushing them in a direction they wouldn’t have taken just yet. There was probably more truth to that supposition that Kylo truly wanted to dig into. There was a sea-change coming – the air fizzed with possibility. Something was happening, soon – something big.

Kylo chewed thoughtfully, pondering the situation. With a start, he realized that this would be the first time she was in his private inner space – what had once been a necessary refuge from the nearly all-seeing eye of Snoke. Where Vader’s helmet resided. An uneasy feeling appeared in the pit of his stomach.

Maybe he should explain before they got there.

But before he thought of the right words to say, they were in his room, and he found himself opening the interior door with Rey right behind him. A jolt of panic burbled up, and he quickly tried to shut it down before Rey felt it too - but it was too late. Her hand went to his back, steadying.

“Ben, we don’t have to do this right now if you don’t want to.” She was soft, soothing - worried.

“No, no, it’s not that, it’s - it’s difficult to explain.” _I have the charred helmet of my fallen darksider grandfather propped up on an altar behind this door. What’s so hard about that?_

 _“_ I’m not running away, Ben. I haven’t yet, have I?” He balked at the trust flowing through her words.

There she was again - the good angel. So much more than he deserved. Wordlessly, Kylo keyed open the door, knowing full well that the mask would be the first thing she saw. He averted his eyes - he didn’t truly want to see her reaction.

 _Monster_.

Rey stepped through, and he could feel her surprise through the Bond as she caught sight of the helmet. Surprise, but not disgust. _What was that tingle? Oh - curiosity. Thank the Maker._ He had forgotten for a moment that his scavenger girl had lived her life among the bones of others. This was hardly the most jarring thing she had seen.

“Is that Vader’s mask?” Her voice was a funeral whisper, hushed and reverent. “How did you - Maker, Ben, this is a bit macabre, isn’t it?” She quirked an eyebrow at him, but true to her word she didn’t run. She walked slowly around the helmet, studying it.

“It was Snoke’s idea - a method of control, most likely. I haven’t gotten rid of it because I haven’t found an appropriate way to.” That was mostly true. He didn’t truly want to give up his only link to the man he had venerated for so long - even if his path had diverged, the whispers from his supposed grandfather gone dark after Snoke's demise. Yet another manipulation in a long line of such betrayals.

Rey nodded, and Kylo received no emotions from across their link that seemed to indicate anything other than intense curiosity. Before he could relax, she reached out her hand and gently touched the hollow where the heat of the funeral pyre had caved in the material. Her fingers ran down the caved-in eye socket, across the nosepiece and the grill where the vocoder had resided. He felt the touch in his stomach, something inside of him both recoiling and running toward her curious hand. 

“Did - did you know?” She looked up at him earnestly. 

Kylo shook his head. “Not till it was too late. My mother told me over the holonet, quickly, because the news was coming out whether she liked it or not. I was away at the Academy at the time. It wasn’t that detailed. I didn’t take it well - and Luke didn’t want to talk about it.”

 _That was last time I spoke to my mother as Ben Solo._ But of course, this he did not say.

Rey’s voice brought him back to reality, the pressure of her against his side grounding him. “Family is complicated.”

Kylo nodded mutely, staring again into the empty eyes of the helmet. Rey leaned against him, not quite an embrace but a reassuring presence all the same. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of her chest rising and falling beside him instead of the face of his mother.

A few heartbeats later Rey straightened, and he reluctantly moved his hand away. She squared her shoulders, a familiar motion when she was feeling uncomfortable. A smile tugged at the corners of Rey’s mouth, and when she noticed his solicitous expression, it turned into a full grin. Rey had sent more smiles in his direction in six months than in the entirety of his adult life.

Whatever he did to deserve having her in his life was a mystery far beyond his reckoning.

She glanced toward the small worktable in the corner. “I’m ready. Let’s do this. We’re supposed to do this. Show me, Ben Solo, how to make this lightsaber.” She smirked, quirking that elegant eyebrow up again. A challenge.

A jolt through his stomach, and a touch of nerves tickled down his spine. _Maker help me, I better not fuck this up._ Kylo Ren had formed his lightsaber - not Ben Solo.

He wasn’t sure which man he was anymore.

Wordlessly he summoned a box of spare parts, directing it to the workbench nearby. Rey removed her necklace, examining it for a moment before freeing the crystal fragment. Kylo caught it in the Force, holding it suspended before she could touch the bare crystal itself. When she looked at him quizzically, he explained. “An important tenant of construction is that it’s all done with the Force. It’s supposed to showcase your mastery and control. It’s believed that if your hands touch the saber before its complete, it will become unstable.”

She grimaced. “Let’s not have that, then.”

Kylo held the crystal over the table, motioning for Rey to stand closer. She settled against him, back against his chest, and Kylo leaned down so his words were said into her soft hair, her ear, the quiet space between them. “Stretch out with your mind. You don’t need to see the parts to know that the right ones are there. Picture your lightsaber as complete and whole, and the parts will come to you. Control it. Let them tell you where they need to be. Help guide them there.”

Rey closed her eyes, and he could feel her meditation begin through the Bond. A cool wave of concentration washed away some of his own anxiety and lingering doubt. A metallic rattle sounded from inside the box, parts rising and slowly circling Rey’s outstretched palms.

A twitch of her fingers, and her hilt began to take shape in the air. Kylo watched in fascinated awe, his hands bracing Rey’s shoulders and keeping his link open to allow her to draw any power necessary from him. The sensation of her movements passed to him through the Bond, and he drifted alongside her, content. After a long exhalation, Kylo felt a gentle tug on the crystal still suspended in his own Force. He relinquished the control to her.

The tiny fragment spun in the air before settling in its place at the top of the hilt. The dance continued, all the players synchronized and controlled. The power brick settled below the tiny crystal, and the metallic bits of the casing beginning to close around it.

Almost as an afterthought, Kylo called to his grandfather’s hilt with the Force, beckoning it to join its new sibling in the air above the work table. To his eternal surprise it responded to him readily, sailing through the air to hover a few inches away from the nearly constructed saber.

Rey flinched for a moment, then steadied. Another small part rose from the box - a connector. It separated in the air, one bit on the new hilt, and one fusing to the old.

With a gasp, Rey opened her eyes, the two halves of her new saber falling easily into her outstretched hands. Her new hilt was a smaller version of his own, save the crossguard. It’s likely the saber would be stable without them, given the size of her fragment when compared to his. It felt odd to say about a lightsaber, but it felt almost feminine. Delicate.

Rey connected the two hilts, and Kylo noted the size difference between the two barrels. Her legacy saber was a good deal thicker than the new, but he doubted it would be an issue for her in the long run. She turned to face him, the awe in her eyes one of the most beautiful things he had seen in his life. The joy in the Bond. The thankfulness. And _love_.

 _“_ We did it.”

“You did it.” Kylo corrected, almost allowing himself to smile.

Rey shook her head, stubbornly. “ _We_ did it. I felt you there, the entire time. It felt like your hands were moving alongside mine - like fixing the Falcon. _We_ did it.”

She ignited her blue blade, and it maintained its steady beam without issue. Rey chewed her lip, casting her eyes upward to his before cautiously flicking the switch on her new hilt.

A slightly thinner red beam erupted, crackling and wavering with the same strange energy his did. Kylo held his breath, waiting for the crystal to become unstable without the vent - but it never did. It held.

She laughed in disbelief, obviously resisting the urge to give it a practice swing. “We did it.” Rey deactivated both her hilts before throwing her arms around his neck, nearly staggering him backwards. She laughed, the breath of it tickling his ear. He buried his nose in her hair.

“We did.” His voice was rough with emotion, and thankfulness swelled in his own chest. Rey tightened her arms around him in response.

The birth of a lightsaber was a private moment, not often shared with others. It was a privilege he didn’t deserve, a good moment untainted by the past and purely his own.   

For the first time in a long time, Kylo Ren was happy.

Kylo set her down, and they exited the room together. Neither noticed the blue-tinged figure of a Force ghost half-hidden in the corner, so neither of them noticed his disappearance, or the satisfied smile on his face.


	31. Chapter 31

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Rey stumbled backwards, feet betraying her and knees buckling as she landed on her backside on the durasteel. The impact jarred her hand, causing the bright red blade of her saber to retract. Defenseless. She looked up unflinchingly at the man looming over her head. The blaster was steady and leveled, pointed squarely at her chest.

A bead of sweat escaped from the damp hair at the nape of her neck to roll down her back, the motion punctuated by a sharp intake of breath. Rey scuttled backwards till her spine connected with the wall. Heartbeat galloping in her chest, panting hard, she held her gaze held steady and waited for the inevitable.

Reth looked down his blaster barrel at her, his eyes staring straight into hers. His hand never wavered as he held the gun at her chest, watching her ribcage heave up and down with each heavy breath. An unpleasant smile twitched at his mouth, causing echoes of their argument to appear in her mind’s eye. The twisted expression vanished quickly as he dropped the gun to his side.

“Well, scavenger girl? Another go?” He fingered the ever-present cartouche around his neck, expression mild and unthreatening. The sass Rey had been expecting never came.

Rey shook her head, standing on tired legs in the training room aboard the Supremacy. “Not now, I’ve got somewhere else to be. You got lucky this time.” The door opened, and the now-familiar figures of the rest of the Knights tromped in. Rey smiled. “It looks as if you’ve got some fresh meat, anyway.”

“I wouldn’t quite call it luck.” Reth purred, the sound sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. Rey carefully avoided his gaze, turning her attention to the three others quickly approaching. Though Reth had attempted to repair their relationship in the wake of their discovery by Ben, but Rey’s blind belief in him had been fractured. It was going to take more than two weeks for her to trust him fully once more. It would be even longer before she trusted herself.

Stretching her sore back and shaking her belt back down to its usual position, she waved a greeting to the Heavy as he approached. Rey had considered his name a misnomer till she had fought against him - the Heavy suited him perfectly, though he was slim as a stripling and no taller than Rey herself. Raised on a low-grav system somewhere in the Unknown Regions, Takeshi’s raw strength was almost a rival of her own Force-backed power. Almost - not quite.

The small man approached, clapping her on the shoulder affectionally. Tak was also a bit of a puppydog, shaggy blonde hair and soft oval face holding the capability to put nearly anyone at ease. A walking contradiction bound up in unassuming brown linen.

“M’lady.” A glimmer of humor colored his voice, sparking in his deep blue eyes.

Rey groaned, brushing his hand off. “Tak, drop the lady business.” She would never be used to it, even in jest. Her skeleton still resembled that of a sand goblin, not some posturing princess with perfect manners and pretty hair. It wasn’t her, and she didn’t want it to be.

The Rogue and the Sniper stood on either side of Reth, their expressions a mirror of the other. Rey knew their names were Ferris and Serin, but she still wasn’t exactly sure which code name belonged to whom. Even if she was sure, most questions fielded at either of them were answered in tandem so it didn’t much matter. They operated nearly as one unit, essentially identical both in appearance and mannerisms.

If Rey had to pin it down, she supposed Serin seemed slightly younger, and perhaps a little shorter. However, the only major physical distinction between the blue-skinned Mirialans were their facial markings. Serin’s tattoos were centered around his mouth, a small pattern of lines; while Ferris had twin constellations of dots in the corners of his eyes.

They sniggered at Rey’s proclamation before distracting Reth away from where Tak and Rey stood. Rey let out a breath she hadn’t remembered holding, and Tak’s sharp eyes narrowed.

“You alright?”

“Fine, fine.” Rey was very much Not Fine, but it was nothing she wanted to discuss with Takeshi. Or anyone, really. “I’ve got to run. I’ll catch up with you later, Tak.” The sandy-haired man smiled, looking more like a young boy than a dangerous soldier. He turned back towards the rest of his fellow Knights without another word.

Truthfully, Rey did not have any set appointment. She just needed some time to herself. Although a part of her liked having the rest of the Knights around, Rey was still unused to groups of people - at least ones she could not lose herself in. And the more people knew about her, the riskier her existence on board became. There were times Rey felt herself longing for the desert sands and silence, and it wasn’t just because the cold of space was biting at her bones again.

Once back in her room, she found the itch to exercise had not abated, the Force pacing like a caged animal along her psyche. She sized up her room with a practiced eye, figuring that even with the addition of several more hanging plants it was still possible to swing her lightsaber without damaging something. Toeing off her boots, Rey stood on the bed to allow for a greater range of motion.

She ran through a few simple forms, both ones she recalled from Master Luke and new ones Ben had been teaching her. The new hilt felt smooth and steady in her hands, the odd crackling of her blade a comfort and not a concern. Eyes shut, she ran herself through another of the paces as Master Luke taught her, muscles falling into familiar patterns from months of practice on the island.

An upward block, a downward thrust. Parry, slash, jab. A step forward, a step backward. Downward block, an upward cut.

A knock on the door interrupted her concentration, and the thin red blade nearly lopped off the top of her fern as she jumped in surprise. Rey sheathed her lightsaber and stepped down from the bed, opening the door after a moment’s hesitation. The last time she had answered for an unexpected visitor, it had been a rather nasty encounter with Reth. She slipped on her soft shoes, tugging her outer grey robe over the sleeveless shirt she had worn for practice.

To her eternal surprise Ben stood before her, wearing the full getup of the Supreme Leader. Without so much as a word, he gripped her arm and nearly drug her from the room, stalking purposefully towards the turbolift. Rey yelped in surprise, barely having time to retrieve her red lightsaber from the dresser before the door closed behind her.

Their Bond bubbled over with rage and fear – not directed towards Rey, but a nebulous event somewhere on the horizon. Her Force swam about her, nudging her along. Something was coming. A great cloudy unknown in the future.

 _We know, don’t we._ Rey tried in vain to get Ben to slow, to look at her, to explain anything at all. He gave no reply, the only thing broadcasting through the Bond a frenetic panic she had never felt from him before.

They exited the lift several floors up and immediately entered a large, empty room. A huge circular conference table glowered in the middle of the floor, one ostentatious chair hulking across the table from where they currently stood and around twenty smaller ones dotting the table at regular intervals.

The strong undercurrent of his anxiety made Rey’s own throat close. Seeing that as for now the room was empty, Rey voiced her concerns aloud, removing her arm from Ben’s iron grasp. “Ben – what’s happening?”

Stalking to the ugly chair, he gripped the back of it with his large, gloved hands. “I’ve received some… distressing news regarding Holdo’s movements. Something is going to happen – something big.” Ben paused, looking anywhere but at her. The softness of his next words was nearly lost in translation through the vocoder. “I need you. Here, with me. Please.”

Was it her imagination, or was his voice quavering as he asked her to stay?

Ben's disordered emotions trickled through their link hesitantly, as if they were afraid to make themselves known. Resolve and confusion in equal measure. Appreciation. Longing. Affection, warm and strong. And something else – something nebulous that echoed the strong call in the pit of her stomach, settling alongside it as if it belonged there. She knew that feeling. The ache in her stomach, her chest – the feeling of home.

Rey gestured frantically at her face, her blood running cold in her veins even as her feet planted themselves in the floor. “Ben, my mask -” _They’ll see me. They’ll know._

_Let them.  Fuck them. This charade is nearing its end._

Rey laid her hand on his arm, trying to reassure him without being obtrusive. She sent back her own acceptance as she spoke, the pull and tug in her stomach urging her to console and comfort despite her own fear. “I wish we had time to talk about this – but Ben, I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what’s happening?”

Rey never gotten her explanation, as at that moment generals and officers flooded the room. To a man, all of them stared in stunned silence at the strange woman with her hand on the Supreme Leader’s arm.

Rey dropped her hand quickly, letting her fingers fist in the fabric of her grey outer robe. She could only imagine her appearance, hair loose and tangled from practice, the sheen of sweat still on her forehead. She was a strange mousey presence in grey next to the Supreme Leader’s imposing figure in black.

 _Be the Hand_ , Ben whispered in her head. He slipped from the familiar guise of the man that she knew so well into the harsh persona of the Supreme Leader, the monster feared throughout the galaxy. Every pair of eyes in the room watched him in apprehension.

Ben sat, and the rest of the room followed. Rey gripped blindly for the chair to his left, sinking into it with no small amount of relief. She folded her shaking hands together in her lap as she studied the growing crowd of black-uniformed men. Eyes traveling over the assembled faces, she received unkind stares from nearly every person in the room. The redhaired General Hux especially regarded her with an angry eye and unlevel gaze – as if he knew something, some damning secret that would unravel her. He seethed inaudibly, glaring at Rey as if she had personally murdered his pet cat before his eyes.

 _I don’t think Hux approves_. Rey had sent Ben quietly, trying her best to be unobtrusive.

Kylo had growled back at her, his voice rough and harsh compared to that of Ben. _That whining bastard can keep his opinion to himself._

Rey snorted, trying to lighten his internal tone, before she realized that Ben needed to be able to be Kylo in this moment. Abashed, she straightened her shoulders and narrowed her gaze, causing not a few of the junior officers to look away in shame. _Good._

General Hux took a break from eviscerating her with his gaze to tap on his datapad, signaling a small holoprojector to rise from the center of the table. He took the seat to Ben’s right. A hush fell over the room as blue images snapped into being, projecting a larger-than-life-scene over their collective heads. Rey snapped to attention when she realized that she recognized the man at the center of the images. 

 _Graehm – that nasty little guard from Ahch-To. I guess they got off planet after all…_ She could feel Ben’s interest pique at her memory, but he did not press her for more details.

He walked into the center of a busy market – a slaver’s market, Rey noted with a grimace of disgust that she hoped did not show outwardly. He strode casually along, hand buried in his left pocket as if protecting something. He stopped to purchase some fruit from a vendor, snacking on it casually with his free hand. Reaching the auction block, Graehm stopped, continuing to eat the fruit as he watched the proceedings. And then – no warning, not even a flicker – and the feed went blank.

General Hux tapped another command into the datapad, and the static was replaced by feed taken from a trooper’s armor cam. The slaver’s market was completely empty, debris scattered wide. No people remained – bodies or otherwise. It was simply as if everyone had been vaporized. The only sign Rey could see of the market’s activity was the outline of several people against one of the few walls that remained standing – a ghostly image in black ash, figures frozen in their last moments. The trooper had looked away from the scene, toeing away a half-eaten fruit as he overturned boards in search of survivors. 

Another click, and the projector vanished back into the recesses of the table. The room sat in unhappy silence. Rey’s palms began to sweat in earnest as the Force burbled in her throat, making her sick to her stomach.

“I don’t think I need to tell you why we’re gathered here today.” The redheaded general began, casting a glance at the Supreme Leader, who remained externally passive. Rey knew otherwise.

Hux continued after a brief pause, as if collecting himself. “We received this data from a surveillance droid on Tatooine this morning, whereafter stormtroopers immediately deployed to the scene. We now know the device the Resistance has been developing. A bomb designed for large-scale, immediate, indefensible casualties, and capable of being carried by a single man. It’s in the final stages of development. We need news of Holdo’s location, and we need it now. General Aneda…”

Ben had been right – reports rolling in were not good news.

The sands of Jakku rose behind her eyes again, for the first time in a long while. The Force skittered along her spine, strengthening her resolve as well as pumping the need to fight through her body.

Rey paid only rapt attention to the back and forth volley of reports and generals arguing strategy and interpretation, using her spare concentration to send strength and comfort to Ben through their Bond. She could feel his mask slipping, Ben Solo peeking through the cracks. Kylo needed to fill them. There wasn’t much she could do other than maintain the steady wall against his psyche, trying to act as something of a buffer. He knew something that had yet to be stated in this gathering of powerful men, and it was tearing him apart.

She didn’t have to wait long to know for herself.

In the midst of an otherwise dry recon report, she caught phrases here and there that made her blood run cold. Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa were confirmed to remain as prisoners of Admiral Holdo. Whispers were circulating about a trial and punishment, though for what crime or criminal was yet to be divined. Speculation placed the spotlight on the aging Jedi as being the target. Witness accounts were describing the last of the Jedi as angry, unhinged – a loose cannon who openly defied Holdo and had come close to killing the woman only to have something stop him in his tracks.

Not one of their spies had seen Leia Organa since their ill-fated mission on Ord Mantell, despite multiple whispers placing her alongside the unstable Resistance leader – wherever that might be now. Rey wondered if the silence she felt from her now meant something more sinister than simply being cut off from the Force.

Her anxiety matched the fever pitch of Ben’s as she recalled Leia’s faint light; Luke’s deepening darkness. Rey knew Leia was beyond her limited grasp; the pale flicker was barely perceptible. But Luke – she should be able to reach him. She was failing. He needed her, and she was not there. She couldn’t help him. The memory of his band of darkness growing in depth stung her, and emotion welled inside her chest.  

Leia’s hands ghosted through her hair, the same as they had a lifetime ago. The memory of the whisky burned on her tongue, and Rey was ashamed.

She couldn’t help anyone. Not Leia, or Luke. Finn and Poe and Rose were beyond her reach. Maker only knew what she had done to Chewbacca. All the people she had wanted to save, Rey had ended up failing.

The only person she could help now was Ben Solo, who was struggling with the news regarding his family in front of the First Order which he desperately needed to control. She could feel Kylo Ren slipping away from her, the fear and panic of Ben Solo surfacing over and over again.

Overwhelmed, she placed a hand on his thigh, trying to offer a physical comfort as well as the emotional support she poured through the Bond. Rey felt Ben’s twitch of surprise both physically and mentally, accompanied closely by thankfulness.

They both stared straight ahead as reconnaissance personnel gave report after report, each seemingly worse than the last. Even as support for Holdo waned in the Core and Midrim, pockets of the Outer Rim seemed to embrace her irrational rhetoric. A brief mention of the Falcon successfully running a blockade sent a wave of relief through Rey that she felt sure reflected in her face, and she tightened her grip upon her control as much as possible. She was the Hand. She was not Rey of Jakku. She was the Hand of the Knights of Ren.

Feeling her falter, Ben cast a flicker of support her way before the icy wall of concentration descended once more.

Maker, this was hard.

In the interest of not giving away the game, Rey slowly tuned out the rest of the reports - they were most reduced to reiterations and reassurances nothing new had cropped up, anyway. She focused instead on Ben, on keeping herself steady, on watching the faces of those assembled. It was Ben’s job to pay attention to the Order. Despite her misgivings regarding Reth at the moment, she had to admit he was right - it was her job to pay attention to the cogs that made it run. Occasionally, Ben would issue a sharp order or command and nearly startle her from her trance, but overall, she found it far easier to school her features when she did not have to hang on every word being said. 

Rey never would have believed it – but she found herself wishing for her mask, especially as the afternoon wore into evening, and then fell into nighttime with no sign of the hell they found themselves in abating. Food, and later caf, was brought, the generals continued to strategize, and Kylo Ren continued to maintain his presence in the room.

There was still no conclusive sighting of Holdo herself. Reports had her on Coruscant, on Tatooine, on Dagoba, of all places. Scouts were being sent to all locations even as they spoke, and Rey hoped against hope they’d have some sort of conclusive information soon.

They had to find her – for Leia’s sake. Luke’s sake. The safety of the galaxy. Troopers on the ground had not found any remnants of a weapon matching the destruction left behind from the blast. Casualties were estimated to be in the thousands – all from one man, casually walking to a market with a bomb in his pocket. 

Reth had stepped into the room several hours back, a shadow lurking in the back dressed in his full Monk garb. He stared intently at her through the viewfinder of his mask. She stared back at him, trying to silently communicate her discomfort. Reth inclined his head towards the assembled crowd, reminding her to keep her focus tight.

She felt herself drawn back and back to Hux – his ice-colored eyes alternating between anger and curiosity in equal measure. She felt sure that he knew something dangerous. Reth’s lessons had not progressed far enough for her to try and suss it out without his help – and besides, now was not the time. Rey bookmarked the niggling thought for later discussion. 

The dull roar of the assembled generals turned from irritating to lulling, and Rey felt sleep drag her limbs down, down, down. Shifting slightly in her chair to alleviate the discomfort of sitting still and ramrod straight for so long, she sought a chrono as unobtrusively as possible. It was nearly 0230 ship’s time – the small hours of the morning. The adrenaline had long ago worn off, and the emotional toll of the events of the evening was beginning to manifest.

She could feel Ben brush against her, and she almost gave the game away and smiled. _I need another caf._

_This is wrapping up. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but trust me, it is._

_I wish I could believe you._ Her tone was light and teasing, but it was hard to hide the undercurrent of exhaustion _._

 _I’m sorry._ A ripple of apology.

_You’re doing your job, don’t apologize. I just don’t feel like I’m doing much of anything._

_Believe me, you’re doing your job quite nicely._ A flash of a holonet report flitted through the Bond, captured from the datapad open a few seats down the table from their position. It was playing a dramatic loop of them seated together, her eyes moving from her lap to look towards his impassive mask. An expression that could only be described as affectionate was plainly written on her face. She only caught a glimpse of the caption, but she distinctly saw the words “Supreme Leader” and “mysterious Grey Lady.”

 _The actual fuck? That was kriffing fast!_ Rey was reasonably sure what little color was in her face had drained away, and she slumped backwards. The drone of the general on the other side of the table buzzed in her ears as the room threatened to spin. She was far too tired for this. 

_You don’t rule the galaxy without controlling the media. Our public relations team is... pervasive, but this was actually a leak. We knew someone on the bridge has been selling the juicier bits of information to whatever gossip rag people are reading these days - most of the time it’s just Hux and I having another fight, but we gave them something different tonight. The entire holonet’s going to be abuzz tomorrow._

Rey felt a spark of irritation. She didn’t like being manipulated _-_ especially on something like this. _You couldn’t have given me some warning?_

 _Honestly, Rey, with everything going on it didn’t occur to me to explain myself to you in the moment. You had to have guessed something like this was coming._ There was a harsh edge to his tone that told Rey discretion was going to be the better part of valor, so she fell silent and listened to what remained of the briefing while trying to keep a neutral, interested expression on her face. It was harder than she had thought. It wasn’t that she didn’t care - it’s that the words were no longer making sense in her addled brain.

Hux’s vaguely nasal voice broke in through her irritated reverie. “Thank you, Captain. It appears we’re hot on the tail of Holdo’s faction. It’s a minor setback, the main sublight broadcast from Sullust only being a decoy repeater, but our forces are still on the ground. They’ll find someone who will talk.”

“Perhaps if we find someone from the other side, as well...” the speaker started, but trailed off as he stared straight at Rey. _Fuck – have I just been made?_

Ben’s low growl startled her away from the man with the deepset eyes. “We’ll have her soon enough. Monk - when we get the next lead, I want you on the ground, along with the rest of the Knights. Be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. In the meantime, General Dren, keep pressing on the Senators from Coruscant. I know three of them are already in our pocket, but we’re going to need all of the Core Worlds on our side, and where Coruscant goes, so goes the galaxy.” Ben’s bark through the vocorder was strangely reassuring, and the finality of it nearly made Rey sag in relief.

“Yes, Supreme Leader.” 

Without a further word, Ben rose and turned to leave, the assembled crowd also rising from their seats. Rey stood only a step behind him, but he paused by her and offered his arm. _May as well give them a show._

Rey slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, doing her best to maintain her aloof expression while stifling a yawn. _It’s going to be a show, indeed, if I trip over my own feet walking fifteen steps to the lift._

Ben grunted softly, adjusting his arm to allow her to balance better on it. Rey leaned into him, trying not to make it too obvious.

Now this was a public show, and Rey had yet to learn the choreography. A misstep could cost her dearly. Now she had kriffing _headlines_ to worry about.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: this chapter contains a description of self-harm. If you read only to the POV seperation lines, you will safely miss it.

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

They made it into the elevator without incident, the Monk shouldering his way through the crowd to step in behind them just as the doors shut. Rey released Ben’s arm and leaned against the wall, exhausted, shutting her eyes as the downward movement made her stomach lurch.

Reth removed his helmet, scratching the back of his head with a relieved expression on his face. “That could have gone worse.”

“Ever the ray of optimism, Reth.” Ben said, also removing his helmet and rubbing his hand over his face with a groan. “Today needs to end.”

Rey caught his wave of sorrow through their still-open Bond. She gripped his arm gently, giving him a steadying squeeze. She was too tired to care about the obvious display of affection before Reth - not like it was some big secret from him anyways. He was constantly using it as fodder for taking the piss out of her during their training sessions.

“You did well, little scavenger girl. Someday, someone might even think you fit that posh Coruscanti accent you sport.” Reth’s acerbic words were in disharmony with his congratulatory tone. “I’ll admit, after watching you two out there - this bullshit is far easier under a mask. I was pulling all sorts of faces in there, and nobody knew. Anything you thought was written all over yours.”

The lift dinged, stopping a few floors away from where Rey and Ben’s rooms were. Reth exited, giving a snappy salute and a smarmy smile as he did.

“I hope he was wrong.” Rey worried her bottom lip, trying to recall exactly what she had been thinking for the last hour that she may see repeated all over the holonet in the morning.

Ben groaned, pushing himself off the wall as the lift slowed at their floor. “You know Reth. He’s always going to try to get a rise out of people.”

They stumbled out of the elevator, Rey shaking slightly with fatigue and cold. Maker, a bed sounded nearly heavenly.

“I’m knackered, Ben. I’d better get in bed before the next headline is ‘mysterious grey lady found asleep in hallway outside Supreme Leader’s rooms.’” She had meant for it to be humorous, but as the words hung between them they formed a sharp, sarcastic edge. Rey felt irritation flare from Ben’s side of the Bond.

“What?” He growled, his slumped shoulders tensing.

“You heard me -” her tone was intended to be placating but came out patronizing instead.

“Are we really doing this right now?” He rounded on her, anger snapping in his black gaze.

“I’m not doing anything,” Rey shot back, moving from tired to angry as she felt the surge of her own annoyance at being forced before the press without her consent. “I’m not the one who paraded someone else in the press without their knowledge for some sort of _kudos_.”

Ben recoiled as if he had been slapped, the hurt he felt whipping through their Bond to sting Rey as well. “Is that really what you think this - tonight - was about? Good publicity? Because it _wasn’t_. _”_

"Oh really?" Rey retorted sharply, her fear and the itchy feeling of helplessness winning out over her better judgment. Their Bond practically roared with their shared anger, thrumming in disharmony and buzzing in her ears as the next words tumbled from her mouth. "It sure didn't look that way from where I sat. I didn't have much of a choice in the matter, did I?"

"You could have left."

"You dragged me along with you without so much as a half-assed explanation, what else was I supposed to do?"

"It was a request, not a demand."

"Everything is a demand when you have no where else to go." Months of buried self-doubt reared it’s ugly head. She choked on it even as the words rang sour in her mouth. 

"Is that how you feel? Like I've trapped you here?" Ben looked away from her, the black anger in his eyes replaced with hurt.

"Why, don't I look like a prisoner to you?"

Pain melded with anger and disappointment in their link, Ben’s next words smacking her across the face. “You’re free to leave. Run back to your desert, to the skeletons of your parents who will never return. Run back to the rebels who called you a traitor and called for your blood. Go on - run then.” Ben crossed his arms, looming over her as his helmet dangled precariously from his fingertips. Every line of his body was tense, ramrod straight in an effort to control his anger.

Rey felt the Dark swirling around them, between them, and realized how close Ben was to snapping.

”That’s not what I...”

”Then tell me, Rey, exactly what did you mean?” 

She faltered, fatigue and dismay stealing any words that may have sealed the rift now grown between them.

Searching for something, anything, to explain what she was feeling, Rey remembered why she had run to Ben. It trickled in slowly, dripping in through the cracks of her own anger. That wonderful, powerful feeling of belonging and _home_ that had called to her across the stars. With a start, Rey realized that she had felt the same cry from Ben tonight, as he had begged her to stay with him as their world continued to crumble.

In the gaps where her anger had eroded the Force nudged in, reminding her. She was right where she should be. 

Rey suddenly felt very small. She stumbled, the anger that had been holding her upright evaporated in an instant and leaving behind only the sharp sting of regret. She cast her eyes downward, sensing rather than seeing Ben back away and turn from her.

Eyes widening in distress, Rey realized that Ben had likely taken her silence as a refusal to respond rather than an apology. She tried to call him back even as he began to turn away, their link dimming. “No - Ben, I’m...”

He held up a gloved hand, dismissing her half-formed apology. “Forget it, Rey. Go get your sleep.” Ben turned on his heel, cloak snapping dramatically behind him as he stomped angrily down the hallway. She felt the Dark rise in him again as he threw up his shielding, leaving her alone in the hallway and in her head.

She stood still for a second, hesitation warring with the need for action, then strode over to his door and placed her hand on the control panel. It beeped angrily at her, flashing red and denying her admittance. Rey pulled her hand away and tried again, with the same results. “Ben?” She called softly, trying not to have another shouting match in the middle of the night in a hallway. 

Silence from inside the room, silence in her head. She leaned against the door, praying he would hear her. “Ben, I’m sorry.” Nothing. “I didn’t mean...”

But she had. The evening caught up with her again, and Rey struggled to keep her emotions in check. All the words she wanted to say burned in her mouth but she stuffed them away, only allowing four of them out. “My door is unlocked.”

Sometimes, leaving the fight is the best thing to do. Rey sensed that Ben was going to need his space, and that was something she could give. Continuing to press him was only going to result in something both of them would regret – well, regret more than they already did.

Sometimes running away could be the _right_ choice. 

Stepping reluctantly away from the door, Rey trudged down the hallway to her room. The weight of the everything that this wretched evening had held pressed on her heart till she felt she couldn’t breathe. The tears were rising in her eyes by the time she reached her door, blurring the pinpricks of stars outside her large window.

She removed her heavy outer robe and cast it on the bench, kicking off her shoes but not bothering to strip any further before crawling under her thick covers and curling into a tight ball. Reaching for the Force, she searched for Leia’s flicker and Luke’s dark band without success.

She was an idiot.

And oh - she was so alone. 

Only then did Rey let herself cry - great, choking sobs that shook her whole body. She mourned for Master Luke, for the loss of his guidance and his descent into the darkness which he so despised. For Leia, who was surely in trouble even as Rey could not discern it. For the disconnect between herself and her friends; for Chewbacca's unknowable situation and the hopelessness she felt at leaving them, no matter how necessary it had been. 

The guilt she felt for abandoning them ate at her throat; instead of running into the arms of the First Order she could have chosen to seek them out. This choice had seemed so clear six months ago - but her hindsight was muddled and Rey felt helpless. She was unable to help anyone, least of all herself. Those lives lost in the market were another reminder of the desperate state the entire galaxy was now facing. The shame she felt in herself burned alongside her self doubt. She was still a foolish little girl.

Rey prayed to whatever power listened to lost scavenger girls for help, even as she knew her cries would fall on deaf ears. 

After what seemed like an hour the tears stopped falling. Her chest shook and sleep still eluded her, but the damp spot on the pillow grew no larger. 

Now, she cried for Ben - empty sobs for the empty space in her head where he should reside, the empty space in her bed where he could be lying beside her in the dark. He never had before - had never stayed despite all her cajoling. 

Tonight could have been different.

Perhaps it wasn't too late - perhaps he would change his mind, and seek her out. She wouldn't push. She could wait - she could be patient. Rey watched the door through heavy eyes, hoping against hope Ben would come through. _Be mad at me_ , she thought to the blank space of their Bond. _Come and rage at me_. _Just come_. But silence reigned, and she was undisturbed.

She was so alone.

Rey found herself adrift in the Force, having slipped into a mediation almost without conscious effort. It was the only fraction of peace she would find for the next few hours, and even in this she was tormented by the feeling that she should be searching for the flicker of Luke’s connection.

——— 

Kylo allowed himself to exhale only after carefully putting away the cruel knife, a tool he had once used on a near-daily basis. He had stopped himself after adding only three lines to the field of scars bisecting his left arm, fighting back the Dark enough to where this small offering of blood had sated it. Three lines - his mother, Rey, and himself. Rey’s admonition to let her in rang in his ears, and he shut it away. Certainly, he had regrets about this evening, but he didn’t think the wounds on his arm were among them. The Dark purred in his belly, satisfied that it still owned him. His anger  leeched away as it always had, sated. He was numb once more.

Kylo stared at the door, locked and shut tight. He had expected her to rage against being shut out, to beat her fists against the door and shout, but she had not.

He was so alone.

He regretted locking Rey out, ignoring her quiet apology and plea for understanding. Instead he was punishing the both of them through his stubbornness and pride. He could have had her here, beside him. She would have stayed with him. He knew it.

But instead he was alone, with blood pooling in the crook of his arm where her hand had rested only an hour ago. The bed creaked under him as he lay down, letting the trickles of bright red blood run down his arm to stain the sheets and form a crimson pool of his regret.

The space where Rey would have been, if he had only let her in. 

He knew – that was the damned thing, he _knew_ Rey hadn’t meant her words the way they had come out. But he was a walking disaster, apparently incapable of maintaining a normal relationship with literally anyone in the galaxy without somehow finding a way to fuck it all up in short order. It was inevitable he would do the same to theirs. 

Replaying the events of the day behind his eyes, Kylo let the air leak from his lungs in an exasperated stream. He had tried to tell her, tried to make her understand his motivations for dragging her into the spotlight. But once again, he'd fallen short of the mark. Surely, he could have handled it better – truthfully, Kylo couldn’t think of any situation in his entire life where that phrase would be inaccurate. He had never made an entirely correct decision in his whole existence, why start now?

Perhaps Rey had also been in the wrong. But he had offered no concrete explanations, forcing her out of her comfort zone - her hiding place - on the selfish impulse that he had wanted her beside him as the world turned once more on it’s ear. He’d forced her to compromise the secret of her presence because he had been scared of losing control.

He had owed her more.

He absolutely owed her more. That fact was as solid and immutable as his locked door.

Rey had not been wrong. She was essentially a prisoner aboard this Destroyer, confined to only a few bland rooms at his insistence. She had stayed so far - but perhaps now, she would not. Surely Rey would realize her friends needed her and she would finally go to them. Kylo closed his eyes in shame. Rey was smart, resourceful - she would find a way and leave at the next opportunity. 

But perhaps not. Her frequent promises to stay buried themselves in his ears, reminding him. The flash of her new lightsaber and the silver bands of that damned mask flickered past his memory, reminding him.

He half rose from the bed, the desire to cross the long hallway to stand before her door nearly a physical ache. Kylo's head swam and vision blurred as he rose, a reminder than he had eaten nothing since breakfast. His arm throbbed, a fresh wave of blood rising from the three ugly lines on his skin as the flesh twisted. Kylo sighed. He would not bother her with his explanations and muddled words tonight. Perhaps he could explain himself better tomorrow – when his head had cleared, when the blood had dried, when they were one step closer to finding Holdo and his mother.

Kylo could only hope that his luck would hold; that he would be fortunate enough to still have Rey down the hall from him in the morning. 

Their link remained closed and drawn. He would give her space. 

Kylo closed his eyes, the sheer emotional exhaustion of the day having drained him of anything he had left to give. It was the only reason he slept at all, his dreams haunted by his mother's eyes and her voice telling him that time was short.

Separated by pride and several meters of durasteel, Rey and Ben passed a restless night apart, when the only thing either wanted was to be next to the other. 


	33. Chapter 33

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

When Rey awoke she had almost expected to find Ben waiting for her. But her room was empty, and their Bond silent. There was nothing. Grabbing her datapad, she scrolled through her messages - nothing. Her security logs showed no door access but her own. Nothing.

Rey laid back on the bed, closing her eyes against the ache of regret in her chest. She had fucked up. She had _really_ fucked up.

This wasn’t going to fix itself. Rey rolled out of bed, surveying her slept-in sleeveless vest with a wrinkled nose before quickly stripping and changing into her tan leggings and grey tunic. She threw the slightly rumpled grey outer robe on top of this ensemble - it worked just fine. Good enough.

Barely giving herself enough time to pull on her boots and attach her sabers to her belt, she opened the door and rushed down the hallway to Ben’s room. Rey slowed her steps just before coming to the door - out of fear or practicality? Who knew.

“Ben?” A slightly louder whisper than last night - maybe he hadn’t heard her after all. No response.

“Ben - can we talk?”

Nothing.

Tentatively, Rey placed her hand on the door control, finding to her relief that it admitted her once more. She stepped over the threshold only to find the room empty, save for some small droid changing bedsheets with a deep red stain slightly right of center. Rey’s stomach fell, and her palms began to sweat. _Oh Maker, he’s done something._ She had seen the scars on his forearms. She understood.

Rey turned to the little droid, panic making her voice quaver. “Where is your master?”

A series of rude beeps and whistles, and the droid rolled away from her.

“Where is the Supreme Leader? Where is Kylo Ren?” _Where is Ben Solo?_

Now she was sure the obnoxious little thing was cursing her out, rolling away from her quickly carrying the stained sheets.

 _Ben? Ben please._ The Bond was still shut tight from the other side. Nothing at all came through. Rey looked around the room, trying to find a datapad or anything to indicate his schedule for the day. It baffled her that she had never through to ask about it before. She had no idea where to find him in this cavernous ship, full of passages she had never walked.

She was a fool.

Rey rushed back to her own room, not wanting to stay in Ben’s empty space any longer. On the way, she was greeted by a chipper J2, on his own way to water her plants.

That’s right - generally she had met Reth by now. She had woken far later than her usual time. Why hadn’t Reth contacted her already? Surely, he had some salty comment about her being late waiting on the tip of his tongue.

“Mistress. Lovely to see you this morning -”

“Thanks - J2, I need your help. Can you tell me where the Supreme Leader is?” _Please don’t be an asshole about it the way that little bucket-droid was._

J2’s silvery eyes glowed, and he gestured with a dull black arm down the hallway to the lift. “I believe that this time of day he is generally in his office.”

“What floor is that on?”

“Three floors up from this floor, Mistress. Turn right out of the lift, first left at the corridor. At the dead end turn right. Follow the hallway to the last door.”

Without responding - or even seeing if she had recalled the directions correctly - Rey rushed for the elevator, sliding in ungracefully. The reflection in the door panel was shocking. Slept in hair. Tear stained face. Slightly wrinkled clothes.

She wasn’t Rey-from-Nowhere anymore. She was this contrived Hand, and now to the rest of the world a woman of mystery. She needed to present herself as such - and she wasn’t likely to have the luxury of a ‘fresher between here and Ben’s office. Spitting in her hand, she wiped the tear tracks off her face the best she could. She combed her fingers through her messy hair quickly, pulling it back into a low knot nearly at the nape of her neck. Nothing to be done for her outer robe, but with her face and hair tidied it didn’t seem as bad.

Rey squared her shoulders, stepping off the lift and heading right.

Or was it left?

Oh Maker.

Since she was reasonably certain it had actually _been_ right she plunged ahead, trying not to project how nervous she felt. Uniformed officers and crew walked the halls around her - more than she had seen during her entire time on board. Over half a year, and she was nothing more than a ghost.

She could feel their curious eyes on her - surely most of them had seen the holovid taken early this morning by now. Hushed half-whispers of _That’s her, that’s the Grey Lady_ and _what’s she doing here?_ floated down the hall. This was a mistake.

Was she supposed to take the first left? Or the second?

Oh Maker. This was not going to go well. Rey stretched out with the Force, hoping to use it as a compass to point her way. _Show me Ben Solo. Please._

Nothing. How was he shielding himself from her, even this way?

Rey hadn’t realized she’d stopped walking until a man in black bumped into her, startling her from her reverie.

“Watch where you’re going - oh.” _Hux_. The red-headed officer was looking at her in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“Asking myself the same question.” Rey ran a hand over her face, hoping against hope that she wasn’t going to say something stupid. “It appears I received poor directions to the Supreme Leader’s office.”

Hux looked her up and down, eyes narrowing. “The Supreme Leader isn’t on board. He left an hour ago with two squadrons and his Knights. They are following a lead on Holdo’s faction on D’Qar.” The unsaid words _you should know this_ floated across the space between them.

 _No. No - not you, too. Not you. Don’t leave me._ Her eyes lost focus as panic took her, the sands of Jakku welling in her chest till they seemed to consume her. Abandoned. Little lost girl. She was nothing. She was alone. Her rational brain tried to reassure her that this was a temporary absence, that there was no real reason Ben wouldn’t return to the Supremacy in short order no matter how angry he was at her.

But her rational brain had given way to the fears of Jakku, of the five-year-old girl who had stared at the back of a starship and plead for it to return.

She had been helpless then, as destiny landed her squarely in the hands of someone no better than a slaver. But she was not helpless now.

Rey straightened her shoulders, looking at Hux with steel in her eyes even as the desert choked her from the inside out. She wasn’t going to be intimidated by him. “I’m going to require the use of a shuttle.” She remembered the garbled voices of the recon briefings from last night - D’Qar was fairly close by. She hadn’t felt the ship jump to hyperspace, so it was safe to assume they were still in proximity.

“Out of the question. Who are you to command the First Order?” Hux sneered openly, looking her up and down lecherously. “I know the sort of woman you are. There’s no _mystery_ to you.”

 _So that’s how it’s going to be._ Rey looked Hux in the eye, lifting her eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest. This morning, of all mornings, was not the time to fuck with Rey of Jakku.

“You think so, General?”

A flick of her wrist, and she held Hux by his neck, his feet barely brushing the floor. The push and pull of others around them ceased, everyone staring as the Grey Lady menaced the General. Rey assumed they had to be fairly used to displays like this from their Supreme Leader, but perhaps not from a scruffy desert girl. Not the best course of action - but likely the fastest.

She tightened her hold, watching with some satisfaction as Hux’s face turned redder. Rey almost felt as if she was channeling Ben - Force choking seemed to be a favorite of his. “I am the Hand of the Knights of Ren,” she said softly, dangerously. “And I require transport to D’qar.”

She released Hux gently, not simply dropping him to the floor. Rey allowed him to cough and splutter for a moment before continuing. “It’s my hope that our continued relationship will not be one of... antagonism, General Hux. Perhaps you’d like to continue this conversation elsewhere?” The words were soft as velvet, filled with a calm she didn’t truly feel.

She uncrossed her arms, offering a hand to the man on the floor. Why make an enemy you don’t have to make? Still - she wasn’t about to tolerate his thinly veiled insinuation that she was a whore. She had worked too hard on Jakku to keep that eventuality from happening – it would not be allowed to haunt her here, even falsely.

Hux glared at her and stood without taking her hand. _Suit yourself._

 _“_ My office.” The ruffled general turned on his heel and dramatically stalked down the hallway, Rey doing her best to glide along serenely after him.

Inside, however, she was a cocktail of panic and adrenaline. _I just choked a First Order General. My face is about to be all over the holonet for that stunt, I’m sure. It’s already all over the holonet from last night. I’m commandeering a shuttle to find my - the kriff is Ben, anyways? Boyfriend? No, not that. More than that. And he’s either going to be furious or - no, just furious. What the fuck am I doing?_ Rey steeled herself as Hux opened his office door, beckoning her inside. _What I have do. I’m doing what I have to._ The Force trilled in her mind, in her bones. It agreed.

Hux shut the door behind her, pointing to a small visitor’s chair. “Sit.”

She didn’t.

The redhead glowered and crossed the room to sit in his overlarge chair. “Suit yourself. You want a shuttle to D’Qar, is that it? There’s a troop transport leaving for there in fifteen minutes. I can make sure you’re aboard... but I’m going to need something from you first.”

Rey stiffened. “I don’t think you’re in a position to be making demands, General.”

Hux lifted his hands, palms up. Conciliatory. “Suit yourself. I don’t have to change the manifest. And I know for a fact you _can’t_. So, either answer my question, or find another way to the planet.”

Rey crossed her arms, irritated. “Talk.”

“Ren likes you.”

Rey resisted the urge to roll her eyes and uncrossed her arms. “Jealous, General?”

Hux laughed, an unpleasant grating noise. “Kriff, no. Only making an observation. Ren likes you. And I’m willing to bet you exert a certain hold over him - whore or not.”

“Watch yourself, _Hux_.”

The general paused, sizing her up from head to toe. He sneered, finding her lacking. “Why are you here, working with Ren? What do you want out of this? Anyone can tell you’re powerful in the same way he is. You could be anywhere. Why are you here?”

 _Tread carefully, foolish little girl_. “I want to see the galaxy at rest.” _Not a lie. Perhaps not the same rest you wish for, General, but not a lie._

Hux met her gaze, his light eyes full of mistrust, belying his words. “Then we want the same thing. I can tell you’re a... reasonable woman. Agree to help me reign in Ren when he gets... destructive, and I will personally put you on that transport.”

“Tired of being choked, General?”

“Honestly, yes.” Rey hadn’t expected that answer - which is probably why Hux gave it. “It’s exhausting trying to navigate his temper tantrums. They’ve been... somewhat abated of late -” a pointed look at Rey, a pale eyebrow flicking upward almost imperceptibly, “- but all the same.”

“I’ve no great wish for any... disturbances.” Again, a true statement.

It appeared to satisfy the General, who depressed a button on the terminal by his desk. “Give me the troop transport commander for the Illirum.” A pause, where his frost-colored eyes never left Rey’s. She kept his gaze, never blinking. _You don’t scare me, you ginger menace. I know for a fact that you have a cat named Millicent. You can’t be an irredeemable bastard and still name your cat Millie._

_“Sir?”_

_“_ Captain Tran, I have a last-minute addition to your manifest. I’ll be escorting them down personally. Do not take off for D’Qar until they are delivered.”

“Yes sir.”

The comm crackled off, and Hux stood, dusting his hands. “There we are. Shall we? It’s quite a walk to the shuttle bay from here. Let’s not take the chance of you getting lost again.”

Rey followed him out the door, down the hall, and back into the lift silently. She was second guessing herself already. _I should have just waited here. I shouldn’t go chasing after him into Maker-knows-what mess on the planet. He’s going to be furious. He’s already furious. He is going to come back. But then - what if he’s in trouble? What if he needs backup? There’s a squadron of troops on their way down, he has backup coming. But he ran off half-cocked. Maybe his judgment is off. It’s his fault anyways. If he hadn’t locked the Bond so effectively I would have just waited here._ The Force crackled in her fingertips anxiously, and she missed Hux’s look of consternation as he felt the surge of electricity in the lift.

The lift dinged as they stepped out in tandem, her robes a grey shadow behind Hux’s black uniform. They were nearly to the main bay - Rey recognized this long hallway from her arrival on the ship. _Too late, in any case. The bridge is crossed - watch it burn._

When they arrived in the bay, the transport was clearly ready to leave. The only other person in the hanger was presumably the captain, who stood at the bottom of the loading ramp.

“General Hux, sir.” The trooper looked nervous - as much as a man behind a helmet could, anyway.

“Thank you, Captain Tran. Here is your... cargo. Allow her to accompany you to the rendezvous point.”

“Sir.”

Hux stepped away, and Rey took a hesitating step towards the ramp. “Thank you, General.” Polite. Dignified. No need to make enemies, she reminded herself.

Hux grunted. “Don’t thank me, Grey _Lady_. I’m not entirely sure you’re aware of what you’re getting yourself into.” With that, he returned to the lift without a backward glance.

Rey pointedly ignored General Hux, instead looking up at Captain Tran and smiling. “Thank you for waiting, Captain. Shall we?” She could practically hear his thoughts buzzing about, confused to see this mysterious Grey Lady on _his_ transport, of all places. He snapped to attention when spoken to, however, and wordlessly gestured inside the ship. It was packed full of stormtroopers. She entered, all their eyes burning holes in her through their masks.

 _Maker_. Rey found the closest empty seat and sat down with less dignity than she had intended, buckling herself in as the whine of the engines spun up into takeoff. For lack of anything else to fiddle with, she produced her datapad from her pocket, flicking the screen over to the holonet news. And there was the holo of herself and Ben, with her face swiveling on a loop from her lap to his mask. Keeping it only on the screen instead of projecting the blue ghosts of themselves, she tried to hide it from the prying eyes of the stormtroopers around her. Maybe they’d lose interest in her if she ignored them.

Instead, she focused only on Ben - his body language, the memory of the feelings he had poured through their link, the words he had left unsaid but had heedless settled in the pit of her stomach. Rey ignored the writing below the holo, harsh words questioning everything that she was. She missed the First Order pundit trying to put his spin on the situation. She missed the reporter speculating on the nature of their relationship.

She just watched Ben, over and over again. Rey stared into the empty eyes of his mask, and imagined the lines of his jaw, the soft waves of his hair, the dark glinting in his expressive eyes. She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t too late. Rey ignored her own image for the entire hour she watched the holo loop. If she had cared to pay attention, she could have seen past the anxiety to find the same emotions mirrored in her, visible to anyone who knew where to look.

———

Rose sat next to Chewie in his room on the _Falcon_ , silently scrolling through the backlog of news she had missed since they last had a holonet connection. Once they had landed on D’Qar, Finn and Poe had taken it upon themselves to try and fix their broken holonet link, with Chewie doing his best to direct the repairs. Anything to distract them from what had happened to Leia - to their Resistance.

A stab of pain twisted through Rose’s gut as she recalled the dreams shattered; the lives of former friends they had ended during their desperate rescue of the Wookiee, and failed rescue of Leia and Luke. The world turned upside down.

She tried to focus on something else.

Rose glanced over at Chewbacca, who was fiddling with a tool and growling softly to himself. His wounds had aged him; the strain of being unconscious for over two weeks had taken its toll on the old Wookiee. Even Rose could see he was not yet the formidable warrior he once was. She had grown very fond of Chewbacca, even if she still couldn’t understand him most of the time. As the tension rose on their small ship, Rose found herself spending more and more time with the furry alien. He was volatile in a predictable way, unlike the two humans she shared space with.  

They had tried to download Shyriiwook to BB-8’s language center, but with only moderate success. And even then, only Poe seemed to be able to understand the droid’s beeps and whistles well enough to translate. It wasn’t the best solution to say the least.

 _Now that the holonet’s back up, maybe I can download a language guide or something..._ Rose almost flicked out of the news screen on the computer terminal, before a familiar face caught her eye. Calling up the report, she stared in confusion before grabbing Chewbacca’s arm and pulling him to face the terminal. She pointed wordlessly, mouth trying to form words but none coming out.

Chewbacca, however, had no such problem. He roared loudly, grabbing the screen with both hands and almost yanking it free of the wall. Over the din, she could hear BB-8 squeaking and scuttling away, presumably to find Poe. Moments later, two sets of heavy footfalls came barreling down the hallway as her two human men and the round droid joined them in the suddenly crowded room.

“Rey! It’s Rey - she’s alive! Holdo was lying, that dried up bitch, they hadn’t killed her - look at her!” Poe was practically jumping up and down, grabbing at Finn’s arm as they crowded around the small screen.

“Maker, she looks amazing.” Finn gripped Poe’s arm back, white teeth flashing in his dark face. “Mysterious Grey Lady, hah - more like fuckin badass survivalist scavenger from Jakku!”

“Can’t keep that girl down for long!” Poe crowed, other hand grabbing a handful of Chewie’s long fur in excitement. “Look at her!”

Rose was. Rose was looking at Rey very closely. And suddenly, she grinned. She knew that look. She had both given and received that look.

Her hand gripped Poe’s forearm, stilling his excited movements. “Guys. Look at her.”

Finn paused, and Chewie stopped mid-roar. “We are, Rose.”

“No - I mean _really_ look. What do you see?”

“... she’s got a nice robe?”

“Her hair is down, it’s not in those three bumps.”

“Bumps, mate, really? Finn, those are buns -”

A soft roar from Chewie, translated quickly into beeps by BB-8. He put his huge furry hand on the monitor again, between Rey and Kylo.

“Chewie says - nah, buddy, that can’t be it... can it?”

“It can. And it is. Chewie knows them both better than any of us.” Rose was nodding, looking into the deep eyes of the Wookiee as he nodded too.

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“Holy shit.”

“What does this mean for us?”

Rose paused, looking up at the Wookiee again as he growled lowly.

“Nothing has changed for us. We’re still here to bust out Luke. But...”

They stood in silence, staring at the loop of their friend and their enemy on the screen. “... perhaps we should re-evaluate the endgame.”


	34. Chapter 34

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Whatever Kylo had thought he was going to be doing today, it wasn’t going to be stomping through the jungles of D’Qar.

Once was enough on this Maker-forsaken planet, and they had already been down for two sweaty hours. He could hear an ocean crash and roar to his far left, which may have added to the humidity in the air. Or it could be this planets summer. Maker only knew.

They had gotten a good lead - a solid lead - that Holdo’s faction was holed back up on this planet, but so far, she had eluded them. The ruins of the Rebel base still lay deserted, and to this point their scanners had picked up no signs of life.

But the Force was sparking within him - somehow, he knew they were close. They just had to keep looking. Kylo had requested an additional trooper squadron as backup and extra hands - the two of them, the other three Knights, and the existing troopers just weren’t going to cut it with this much ground to cover, but he didn’t want to call out the larger troop transports till they had a better idea of what was going on.

Reth slogged through the forest on his left, narrowly missing tripping over a large tree root and cursing loudly.

It might have been humorous if he wasn’t in such a dark mood. He knew he should have let Rey in last night. He knew he shouldn’t have left her without an explanation today. But Maker, he still felt stung, and he couldn’t arrange the words in his brain well enough for them to make sense even to himself.

The look on Rey’s face as she sniped at him last night haunted him, her lovely features twisted into that of a scared animal. Like she had honestly thought everything he had done was for his own sake, not _theirs_. Like he was controlling her. Caging her. When all he wanted to do was set them both free. Rationally, he knew she had just misspoken, that the events of the day had worn her down just as they had worn him down.

But the larger problem remained - she hadn’t understood what he had been trying to say. And he wasn’t sure how else to tell her. Words formed and died in his mouth, turning to ashes despite his best intentions. He had tried instead to show her – but maybe that hadn’t been enough.  

But that was a problem for after all this.

Reth tripped again, and this time he did fall. Kylo stopped and waited for him to find his footing again, sighing impatiently.

“Ok, that one was on purpose. Not even a chuckle? What’s going on with you today - you are an actual mopey thundercloud. It’s ridiculous. Here I thought getting a little tail last night would have -”

“Don’t you dare talk about her.” The anger was involuntary, but helpful. Anger he could channel. Sadness he could not.

“... oh, there it is. You two fought. Suddenly I understand.” Reth slid off his mask, sweat matting his short hair to his forehead. “You wanna get it out of your system, or is festering in silent rage all day more your speed?”

Kylo resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and instead removed his own mask and ran a hand through his sweaty black hair. “Reth, right now you continue to breathe only because of two things: our longstanding history, and the fact that it would take too much energy to turn around and kill you. Would you like to push this further, or can we leave it alone?”

“You got it boss, festering silence it is.”

The resumed their trudging through the jungle, battling away vines and branches in fruitless pursuit of something undefinable, but certainly _there_.

The Force inside him twinged, and Kylo held up a fist to signal Reth to stop. The other man halted behind him, his footfall the only other noise on the leaf-covered forest floor. Kylo stretched out again, sensing life forms to their right. He couldn’t tell how many, but they were certainly sentient. Perhaps...

He signaled Reth to stay quiet and keep close to him. They slunk through the undergrowth, coming closer and closer to the small fires of minds that tickled his psyche. Reaching a clearing, Kylo signaled for a halt again, and they peered through the thick bushes together.

 _The Traitor._ Kylo stiffened, watching the former stormtrooper stomping loudly around the exterior of the Falcon. That scruffy pilot was close by. They were working on something in the belly of the ship - typical, the Falcon was always just about to fall apart. That fucking boat.

They had found the Resistance all right - but not the ones he was after. But, perhaps, still useful to his purposes. At any rate - Rey would be relieved. He winced and pushed the thought of her away - time for that later. He couldn’t afford to lose focus now. He scooted back slightly, whispering to Reth. “Resistance. Not who we want. Other faction.”

“Would they help us?”

“Perhaps. I am... known to them.”

“Friends of your girl?”

Kylo’s eyes widened marginally in surprise.

“I’m not stupid, Kylo.”

He left it alone for now. It wasn’t the time. A commotion - that kriffing orange droid he had wasted so much time chasing after was rolling down the ramp, beeping and whistling. The Traitor and the pilot ran up the ramp after him, dropping tools in their haste. _The fuck?_

Kylo crept forward again, trying to hear what was going on. He could make out a lot of excited shouting - and a loud Wookiee roar. _Chewbacca_. A sudden desperate longing to see his former friend stilled the breath in his throat. Chewbacca, whom he had truly thought to be dead despite their best efforts to the contrary. That healing Force wielded by his Bondmate was a power he still didn’t truly understand. The impulse to see the Wookiee alone was nearly enough to cause him to run up the gangway headlong. But he stilled himself. Control. Concentration.

_He doesn’t want to see you. Murderer. Worthless._

Shaking his head to clear away his intrusive thoughts, he concentrated on the clearing again, waiting to see if any of the rebels would reappear. There was a lot of whooping and shouting - did these Rebels know nothing about stealth?

What he heard next, however, overrode even his most strict of controls and would have sent him tearing through the undergrowth and into the clearing if Reth’s hand on his shoulder hadn’t stilled him as he flinched. The Wookiee had roared, sadly and clearly - “ _Sunbeam loves Little Ben.”_

 _The fuck – what?_ _What is going on in there?_

The possibilities and implications of the Wookiee’s harsh roar turned themselves about in his brain. Was Rey in contact with them? Was she there? Unbidden, her name tumbled out of his mouth _._

“Rey? What’s going on? Is she with them? What was that roar?” Reth looked confused. Kylo felt confused.

“I don’t - no. She can’t be.” He could have opened the Bond and found out, but his wounded pride wouldn’t let him. Kylo looked down at his tracker, marking this location. “I’m changing the orders for the reinforcements. I’m sending them here to pick up these rebels and their droid.”

“Isn’t that an awful risk?”

Kylo shook his head. “I’m ordering non-lethal force. These rebels are... important. It’s done - let’s go. What we seek is elsewhere.”

They slunk off through the underbrush, listening to the roar of a transport as it made its way into atmo.

———

Rey bounced along with the troopers as they entered the planet’s atmosphere, the ship shuddering around them as they passed through the layers with a crack. Almost as soon as it began, it was over, and the transparisteel door window flickered greeny-blue with the beautiful treeptops and oceans of the planet below. She hadn’t thought she’d be back on D’Qar. The last time she was here... things had been so different.

 _She_ had been different.

The thump of booted feet interrupted her musings, and the crackling voice of the Captain announced that they had merely five minutes till they were planetside.

“I’ve just received a transmission from the Supreme Leader himself. Our orders have changed. Before our rendezvous with the rest of the squadrons, we’re to pick up some rebels and a droid. Non-lethal force is to be used. Switch your weapons to stun - and get ready. We will be taking them by surprise, but they are still Resistance.”

Finn. Poe. Rose. BB-8. Rey knew. She just knew in the Force that they were close. They were _here_. It had to be them they were being sent to retrieve.

A jolt, and the ship landed. Rey unbuckled and quickly stood, making her way to Captain Tran. “Captain? If I may - I believe I know these targets. I could be of assistance to you.”

“My lady…” Rey grimaced. She was no lady. “- it’s not safe.” _My ass is grass if anything happens to you,_ ran the unsaid subtext of his reticence.

“Don’t worry, Captain. I think you’ll find I can handle myself.” She allowed her outer robe to slip back, just a bit, displaying her two sabers clipped to her belt. “If they capture me, you have my permission to stun us all. No repercussions for you. I may be able to convince them to come with us without any loss of your troopers. They should come willingly with me.”

Captain Tran looked from the sabers to her upturned and earnest face. Rey recalled Reth’s words of a few weeks ago, describing how to plant a thought into the mind of another. _Grasp the Force, let it flow through you. Use it as a pen, a tiny whisper in their minds. Rewrite their narrative. A small change is the easiest – same as a lie. Big lies are clumsy, but small ones are easily swallowed._

 _Believe me._ She projected as carefully as she could. _I can help._

There was no change in the deep eyes of the trooper’s mask, but the popping mechanical voice surprised her all the same. “I believe you.” Captain Tran said. “You can help.” He turned to the squadron, gathering at the base of the ramp. “Black Squadron! The Grey Lady will lead this incursion. She will approach the targets alone. Keep your weapons on stun and shoot only if it appears the Lady is in danger.”

_Again, with this Lady business._

_“_ Thank you, Captain; Troopers.” Rey made her way to the front of the crowd, gently maneuvering her way through the forest of white armor. The ramp opened, and she practically ran down it, excitement lending energy to her limbs and the heavy thoughts of Ben and heartache pushed aside for a moment.

Her friends were here. She could _feel_ them, as surely as the grass and dirt crunched beneath the toes of her boots.

They had landed in the same clearing as the Falcon, and Rey’s heart gave a leap as she saw the old ship that had once felt like something close to home. The gangplank was still down, and tools were scattered on the ramp, but no one appeared to be outside. Without a second thought - and ignoring the shout of Captain Tran behind her - Rey ran up the ramp, boots pounding in a familiar way on the old durasteel. It sounded a little like home.

“Hello?” Rey called out, slowing as she reached the blind corner near the top of the ramp. No need to get shot accidentally - they had to have seen the transport land outside and would be on edge. “Finn, Poe? Rose? It’s me.”

“Who is the fuck is _me_?” The snarl belonged to a familiar voice - Poe. He was up to her right, likely behind the stack of shipping crates.

Rey turned, cautiously taking another step forward. “It’s Rey! Poe, it’s _me_. Come on out.”

“You landed in a troop transport.” _Finn._

 _“_ Of course I did, you knuckleheads. Do you think I could have gotten down alone?” She laughed, looking around her.

“I think we’re all a little confused, Rey.” Rose’s soft voice came from her left. “It wasn’t twenty minutes ago we saw you on the holonet, sitting with Kylo Ren - Ben - whatever his name is. And then another clip of you strangling that obnoxious General Hux and calling yourself the Hand of the Knights of Ren? And now you’re here, an entire squadron of stormtroopers at your back.” Rose stepped out from the gloom, hands raised with a blaster dangling from her fingertips. “We don’t want to hurt you, Rey - far from it. But you can’t blame us for being a little nervous.”

Rey sighed, running a hand over her face. “I know. I know it’s a lot. But please - please trust me. I’d never hurt you. Neither would Ben.”

“I want to believe you, Rey.” Finn’s soft voice came from her right, and Rey spun to face him. “I want to believe you more than anything else. But I don’t know if I can.”

“We are so, so happy to see you alive and that you’ve escaped Holdo. But you’re with them. You’re _very_ with them. And the First Order is still our enemy.”

Rey shook her head, desperate to make them understand. “Ben is the _head_ of the First Order. It’s not going to be the same. Already we’re making changes – and there hasn’t been an attack on the Resistance for weeks, has there? Come back with me. Help us. Please.”

“It’s still the war machine that’s enslaved thousands across the galaxy! The man you half strangled apparently only a few hours ago ordered the destruction of the entire Hosnian system!” Poe cried, stepping forward into the dim light coming up from the bottom of the ramp.

“I bring them back - and I can’t personally abolish slavery with a snap of my fingers, neither can Ben! We’re changing it – but these things take time!” Frustration made Rey’s voice go up in pitch. This wasn’t what she had expected at all.

“Maker. Rey, can you hear yourself?” Finn whispered. “He’s still the man who murdered his father. In front of us. You’re taking up for a _murderer_.”

Rey was silent. She had no defense for Han’s death, for Ben’s past sins. She couldn’t explain them away, and even if she could - her friends wouldn’t accept it. Their distrust stung, a bitter wound that was going to fester despite her best intentions. Rey’s excited posture slumped, the joy leaving her eyes. Another fragment of her family slipped farther away from her reach, the ties that bound them perhaps irreparably damaged.  

A low growl sounded out from behind Rose, a familiar soft roar. _Chewbacca_. Rey lifted her head as the Wookiee stepped forward, shrugging off Rose’s hand from his arm. He walked fully into the soft light coming from then open ramp, arms empty. It was strange to see his shoulder free of the bandolier, the grey streaks in his fur standing out even more since the silver contrast had left him. He looked even more careworn and tired than Rey had remembered.

But he looked like he _believed_ her.

“ _Sunbeam.”_ He _gawored_ softly, stretching his arms towards her. Rey stepped into them gladly, even as she heard the click of three weapons being trained on her. She would _never_ hurt Chewie - they had to know that. What she had done on Ahch-To couldn’t have been forgotten so quickly.

“ _Sunbeam, I am so happy to see you. Do not worry about Blossom and Trooper and Pilot. They will not hurt you. We are all shocked. Where is Little Ben?”_ The Wookiee wrapped his arms around her, practically suffocating Rey in the best way possible. She buried her face in his fur, the slightly musky scent feeling like a homecoming.

“I don’t know where he is, Chewie - that’s part of the reason I’m here. I hurt him. I didn’t mean to, but I did.”

“ _These things happen when you care about someone.”_

“Everything has gotten so complicated.”

 _“It always is, Sunbeam.”_ A pause, a strong heartbeat _. “We are here for Luke. Reports place him here.”_

 _“_ That’s good - getting him out would be... good.” Rey recalled the widening Dark band in his Force connection in light of the news from last night and renewed her own worry for her master.

_“No matter the outcome - I will come with you. Perhaps the others will follow. It will be good to see Little Ben again. There is nothing left for me on this ship. My place is with you. It was with you before, but I was... unable.”_

Rey’s heart seized in her chest at the reminder of Han’s death, at the nearly palpable pain in the Wookiee’s growl. He had truly lost everyone. 

The Wookiee released her, leaning down to roar softly at BB-8. The droid beeped in response, rolling over to Poe and began to whistle and scree in earnest. Poe listened raptly, his frown deepening.

“You can’t be serious, big guy.” He looked incredulously at Chewbacca, his weapon lowering slightly. “You can’t go with her. We have to find Luke, get him out of here.” His tone was cajoling, worried. “You heard what Leia said, before -”

The Wookiee shook his head, pointing at Rey. Finn nodded, dropping his weapon to his side with a sigh. “He’s not wrong, Poe. Those troopers have us way outgunned. Even if Rey came with us she would never be able to convince them to stand down. They have their orders and they are going to execute them.”

“We’re trapped?” Rose’s voice quavered.

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“You’re _not_ trapped. Just come with me. Please. Give me a chance to show you what we’re trying to accomplish. We can get Luke out. You aren’t prisoners. Come help us. Please - trust me one last time.”

“There’s no trust here, Rey. It’s just our only option.” Poe holstered his weapon, prompting Finn and Rose to do the same. “None of us want to die.”

Rey was reluctant to tell them that the stormtrooper’s weapons were set to stun and risk have them choose to make a run for it knowing they wouldn’t be killed. So instead, she simply nodded, motioning down the gangplank. “Let’s go. No sense in waiting.”

They tripped silently down the ramp, Rey leading with Chewbacca by her side. The others trailed reluctantly behind her, BB-8 whistling a little sadly as they closed the gangplank to the Falcon.

They were almost to the other side of the clearing - and the troop transport - when all hell broke loose. Rebels swarmed out of the trees to their left, blaster fire raining down around them. Return fire from the troopers was once again the deadly red bolts instead of the strange _whoomp_ of a stunner _._ White armor poured into the clearing - there had to be more troopers there now than the squadron Rey had ridden down with. It was pure chaos - and her friends weren’t safe here.

A flash of a red saber blade caught her eye, and relief coursed through her. Ben was here – she had found him. The Force roared with joy, making her hands tingle with its power. She was _ready_ for this. She knew what she had to do.

Determination surged again within her, and Rey turned, pushing Chewbacca before her and back towards the Falcon. “Get back! Get on board - go! Leave now!” _You have to be safe, or I can’t do this. Any of this._

Poe stopped, blaster already drawn and taking aim - but at who? “Not without you!” Chewbacca bellowed angrily, echoing his sentiment.

“You stupid - _yes_ without me! Go now! You’re a target for both sides. Get out! Leave!” She sent a blaster bolt into the dirt with a flick of her fingers, much to Poe’s surprise. It would have taken his gun arm. Chewbacca roared, putting his giant paws on Rose’s shoulders and dragging her down as another deadly streak cut through the air by her head. A tree exploded across the clearing, and more fire rained around them as clods of dirt were kicked up by the wayward bolts.

Panting, Rey shoved the four of them towards the Falcon with the gentlest of Force pushes. “Go! You know where I am. Who I am. You can find me again!” Rey drew her sabers, igniting them and clicking them together into one fluid motion. “If I don’t hear the Falcon taking off in the next five minutes...” She could barely register the look of surprise plastered on her friend’s faces at her joined blue and red blades before she turned and ran into the fray, towards the flash of her saber’s mate.


	35. Chapter 35

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Kylo sliced mercilessly through a Rebel who had taken aim at Reth, cleanly lopping the man’s head from his body. Bloodlust has risen in him again, and his impulse control was shattered. The Dark had taken over once more, and this time Kylo was reveling in the release. All his anger poured itself into his swings, the blaster bolts he turned back to their senders, the killing thrusts of his crackling blade.

He bared his teeth and snarled, black hair whipping about his face and turning him feral thing more than a man. Odd how he felt more like a monster without his mask than with it. Having borne the brunt of a blaster bolt, and lay somewhere to his left. It had discharged its duty admirably.

A stomp of his foot sent damp black dirt flying as he lunged forward again, his red blade sending another soul to the beyond. _This slash is for my mother. This stab is for Rey. And this one should be in the belly of that purple haired bitch, but that will come soon enough._

He roared, spinning to separate an arm from a torso; to add a hole in a chest. He moved without grace, without a plan - merely an extension of his lightsaber and the Force. Instinct and anger alone propelled him.

A bolt singed his belly, a brush of fire next to the wound Chewbacca has given him. He cried out, turning to find the walking dead man who had managed to wing him. But before Kylo could even the score, another red blade ended the unfortunate man’s life.

He would know that irregular crackle-fizz anywhere.

Rey was standing before him, dirt streaking her face and grey robe, sweat-damp hair clinging to her cheeks. This time, she came as an avenging angel. And she was here unmistakably for him.

Kylo opened the Bond in naked relief, connecting them once more and allowing himself to _feel_ her.

The knowledge of Rey settled into the deep grooves in his mind, her presence smoothing out the tracks where she had worn him down. He was once again whole.

It was only a small pause, but they could afford to wait no more as the fight continued to rage around them. Kylo felt himself falling into the familiar patterns of their practices, turning to put his back to Rey as they had in the throne room what felt like a lifetime ago. Where he was fierce and uncontrolled, she was calculated and calm. Her blue and red saber-staff worked for her beautifully, turning into an almost purple blur as she wielded it.

He reveled in the feeling of her fire beside him, until he realized he was feeling a small stab of pain whenever she swung. A blaster bolt had glanced her too, leaving a searing streak of red on her upper arm. The fury spun up in him again, and he slashed through two unfortunate rebels with one powerful stroke. Bloodlust made the desire to carry her to safety war with the impulse to destroy anyone in their path.

 _Ben, I’m fine._ A block, a Force throw. _Concentrate_.

It occurred to him then that Rey was choosing non-lethal force as much as possible, while he was coming to her with yet more blood on his hands.

 _Monster_.

He stopped a red streak with the Force, sending it harmlessly back into the tree line. A roar sounded from overhead - the unmistakable sound of the Falcon’s engines burning out. Rey’s relief washed over him even as she tossed a Rebel soldier back towards the trees.

 _This is a distraction._ Kylo blocked another bolt and thrust his lightsaber towards the offender, sending him skittering backwards. _Holdo is making good her escape somewhere._ A slash, a stab. _And we’re letting her get away._

 _I agree. We should –_ Her internal words ended in an audible yelp, and Rey stumbled to the ground as her legs were swept out from under her.  Kylo leapt to block the kick that the same unfortunate zealot had aimed at her head, sending the man flying backwards with a booted foot. He landed a meter away, skidding along the ground and leaving a trench of disturbed earth his wake.

From her position on the ground, Rey saw it first - a light craft, hovering over the tree line. _There_. Kylo yanked her back to her feet, and she quickly resumed her protective stance against his back. He unclipped the commlink from his belt and shouted into it as blasts from the craft began to land around them, sending great clouds of dirt into the air.

“Black Leader, this is Alpha Prime, a light craft is trying to make its way out of atmo, do not let it escape, repeat -“

An explosion rocked the ground next to him, throwing him head over heels into the dirt and knocking the comm from his hand. A high-pitched whine replaced any sounds of the battlefield roaring in his ears, and the world spun white. He fought against the darkening of his vision, of the headache that was forming. _Not now. Can’t give in now_.

A trickle of blood slipped down his face and stung his eye, and Kylo quickly shook it out. _Not now._ He grabbed for his extinguished saber hilt and hauled himself upward to stand on shaky legs. Ice trickled into his veins as he observed the damage all around him – and behind him.

Rey had been behind him.

He spun around, looking for her familiar grey robe, her soft brown hair. She had to be nearby. But - nothing. Nothing but a smoking hole, with himself at the center of it.

 _Rey! Rey, where are you?_ He struggled to his feet, back on fire and legs uncooperative. Nothing came through the Bond - no presence, no absence. Just a curious blankness.

 _“_ Rey!” Kylo roared, looking frantically around the crater he found himself in. No bodies. Black dirt, green grass, brown tree trunks and branches. No grey. Not yet.

He stumbled forward a few steps, almost falling to his knees but persevering. _Not now. “_ Rey!”

She had to be here. She wasn’t gone - not his Rey.

 _His_ Rey.

“Kylo!” Reth’s voice broke in, sounding as if he was shouting underwater. The black-clad man grabbed his shoulder to steady him. “Fuck, he just - that fucker blew _himself_ _up_.”

“Where is Rey? She was - she was right behind me.” _Back to back. Protecting me._

“She’s fine buddy, she’s fine.” A lie - a _lie!_ He felt the untruth of it smarting in his gut.

Reth’s fingers had not left his shoulder, gripping him tighter in urgency. “Come on Kylo, you gotta get your head looked at. It’s pretty bad. Come back with me.” Reth was never this gentle. Something was _wrong_. Kylo _s_ tumbled, and Reth tightened his hold and pulled him back to his feet. “Come on buddy. She’s fine. Rey’s fine. But you have to be fine too. Can’t let your girl worry about you. She’ll be whining to me about it in practice next, you know how women are, and I don’t have the patience for that sappy bullshit.”

“Actually, I don’t know how women are.” _Maker, he didn’t mean for that to come out._

Reth chuckled, but it sounded so forced and twisted through his vocoder that it only deepened Kylo’s sense of wrongness.

“I’m not - I’m not going anywhere till I see her.” He tried to pull away from Reth but was unsuccessful. The world spun, and that annoying trickle of blood ran back into his eye, blinding him.

“I’m gonna get her for you, buddy, but you gotta - just calm down, Kylo. Come on.” Reth tugged gently on his arm, trying again to pull him toward the treeline.

Kylo shoved himself away from Reth, dropping to his knees in the disturbed dirt instead of walking back the way they had come like he had intended. His traitorous legs weren’t moving. “No.” 

“Okay, okay. We can wait.” Reth plopped down next to him, pulling off his helmet and tossing it away from him. He was breathing heavily, covered in sweat and dirt. His usually-immaculate robes were torn and dirty, back and shoulders slumped in defeat and exhaustion. “I know she’s fine, Kylo.”

Kylo only grunted, sinking down even further to rest his back on the ground. “You’re a liar, Gareth Ren.”

The Monk sighed, but did not respond.

——-

Rey swam back to awareness, spitting out a mouthful of dirt and rolling over onto her back with a groan. _The fuck was that._ The light above her felt blinding, and she blinked her eyes a few times to adjust. A cough, a smatter of dirt between her fingers instead of the cold metal of her lightsaber.

 _No - where are my sabers._ With questing fingers, she quickly found her still-joined hilts a few inches from her outstretched hand and grasped them gratefully. _Thank the Maker._ She clutched them to her chest as she lay staring at the sky, trying to remember what had happened. Thunderclouds loomed darkly above her, and a frown creased her face. Had she imagined the brightness?

She had been fighting the rebels - trying to watch Ben’s back as he called for a tail on Holdo – and then, blackness. Oh Maker - where was Ben?

 _Ben?_ Nothing.

Rey sat up slowly, shaking the clumps of dirt from her ruined robes. The inane thought that she had rather liked these clothes flashed through her mind, and she stuffed it away in panic.

_Ben? Ben, please. Please answer me._

_Rey?_

_Oh Maker - Ben, oh thank the Maker, are you alright? Where are you?_ Relief almost forced her limp-boned back into the dirt, but she struggled upward to stand on unsteady feet.

 _I’m fine - where are you? I’m coming for you._ Suddenly, Rey felt a wave of agony through the Bond, nearly sending her back down to the ground again, gripping her head.

_You are not fine - you are a terrible liar. Maker, Ben, stay put. I can find you. Where are you?_

_With Reth. Not... not sure where._

_Okay, okay - that’s fine, that’s all I need. I’m coming._

Rey looked around at the edge of the clearing where she now stood. Somehow, she had been thrown in the tree line - it was a small mercy she hadn’t ended up wrapped around one of the thick trucks – the impact would have broken her back for sure.

Looking down at the destruction surrounding her, her felt her stomach lurch even as her silent footfalls propelled her forward. One step after another her clumsy feet kept her moving dead ahead, automatically steering herself toward where she recalled the transport landing. Her muscles ached from abuse, but it seemed she was largely unharmed - a miracle in and of itself. There were trees down everywhere, flattened in a semi-circle around a large crater she was standing just on the cusp of.

_What happened?_

_Don’t know - a thermal detonator?_

_Hell of a detonator._ Rey scowled. The small metal orbs were powerful - but not this powerful. _No – not a detonator. This is their weapon. Or a variant of it, maybe. How are we…_

Rey let the words die on her lips as she surveyed the battlefield. There was nothing – no bodies, no sign of the pitched battle that had been raging only moments ago. She slid down the gentle slope of the crater’s wall. It was far wider than it was deep - more of a gentle scooping of the earth than a hole. The ground was the wrong color, and no downed ships dotted the landscape, but memories of Jakku turned the grass and dirt into sand before her eyes and the shadow of death followed her.

Finding her legs again, Rey picked up the pace, navigating around the fallen trees and other detritus as best she could. She was nearing the center of the crater, and though there were fewer fallen trees to dodge she could still not see Ben or Reth.

_Ben, I should be getting close - can you see me?_

Silence. _Kriff._ Rey began to full-out run, leaping over still-smoldering branches and other detritus. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted two figures in black, one sitting and one half-reclining - and Rey changed directions with a shower of loose dirt.

“Ben!”

“ _There_ you are, princess - calm down, he’s fine. See Kylo, I _told_ you she was fine. Rey, this stubborn fucker wouldn’t move until he saw you.” Despite his cocksure words, Reth was plainly relieved to see her. The sagging of his shoulders and the nervous fingers on his cartouche told the real story.

Rey shook her head at the Monk, cupping Ben’s face gently, thumb brushing over the ridges of his scars. She noticed Reth’s distasteful grimace out of the corner of her eye, choosing to ignore it in favor of finding the source of the blood running down Ben’s face. A wicked gash was mostly hidden in his hairline, the only giveaway the steady seep of blood.

Ben’s eyes were glassy, but he managed to focus on her face with all the intensity he normally exuded. He raised his hand to her cheek in the mirror of her own movements, his dirty palm leaving a bloody trail down her face as it dropped away. He had probably intended it to be reassuring, but the confirmation of how his carefully-held façade had collapsed was anything but.

Rey smiled down at him in a manner she hoped was comforting, her stomach clenching at the coppery tang of blood that filled her nose. _His blood._ “You’ve seen me, you nerf herder, we can go now. Can you walk?”

Reth and Ben’s voices overlapped, each contradicting the other with a glare before Reth won out. “He can sort of stumble. You’re going to have to help him.” The Monk’s voice had fallen to a whisper.

“Me? Why just me, why not you too?” Rey narrowed her eyes as Reth shushed her, pointing into the undergrowth to her left. A rustling - and it sounded large.

“Because I’m staying here. You two - go, now. Kylo and I found a cave a click or so south of here and marked its location. Take this - it will help you find it. Hole up there. If what I find in the trees are friendlies, we’ll all come your way soon enough. If not - it’s marked on the main map and will be searched when the next detachment comes down for the survivors.”

“What do you mean?” Rey whispered harshly, painfully aware that Ben had hardly been participating in this discussion at all. He was now leaning against her body, and his head was heavy on her shoulder.

“The transport you came down on is gone - went after what we think is Holdo. You are the only other person I’ve seen past the explosion - no troopers, none of the Knights, no rebels, nothing. I have no idea where everyone else is. The transports we came on are over ten kilometers away, and you are never going to make that dragging his heavy ass behind you. I’ve got a cauterizer and two Bacta patches - take them, patch him up, and _wait_.” Reth shoved the aforementioned objects into her free hand, which she quickly pocketed.

“Reth -”

“Don’t argue with me, lost girl. This is the only way this goes. Not only is he loopy as fuck right now, but you are both juicy targets for hostage taking. Get out of here. Go.” He looked at her as sternly as possible, gently shoving her shoulder before standing himself. “Now.” He fingered the cartouche around his neck before turning towards the trees.

“Come on, Ben - stand with me.” Rey stared at Reth’s retreating form, wondering if this was going to be the last time she watched his cocky swagger. She surprised herself by hoping it wasn’t.

Ben rose slowly, leaning heavily on Rey to do so. “‘M fine.” He mumbled under his breath, taking a shaky step forward. “Lessgo.”

Rey half carried, half dragged Ben up the small crest of the crater and towards the direction of the cave.


	36. Chapter 36

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

The stumbling walk to the cave felt like an eternity. Rey kept whispering nonsense to Ben, keeping him awake and mostly replying to her. They had been having a heated argument over porgs as friends versus food - well, heated on her end, Ben had mostly been reduced to muttering yes or no - when they finally reached the mouth of the cave. They stumbled inside a few paces together before Ben shrugged off her arm and sank against the wall.

He was paler than usual, the red of his blood a stark contrast against his ashen complexion. Rey could feel the anxious thread of worry rising in her and quelled it quickly. Worry was not productive. Action was.

“Alright - I’m going to fix that nasty cut, then I’m going to find water. C’mere. Let me see it.” Rey didn’t like how Ben’s head was lolling against the wall, how limp he seemed. She needed to keep him awake.

She shifted his head gently to where she could see the cut that nearly bisected his scalp. Careful fingers parted his dark hair, matted with blood, and she winced to herself when she was sure he couldn’t see it. It wasn’t deep - like something had just brushed his head - but it was bleeding profusely. At least Rey was now fairly sure that the wooziness Ben was experiencing was from blood loss instead of a major head trauma. That was a relief.

“Where was your mask, you foolish man?” Rey’s tone was soft, the words meant only for her and not the man whose sticky blood coated her fingertips. She regarded the wound for only a moment before fishing for the cauterizer pen. She could heal it – her fingers practically itched the knit the flesh together, the Force vibrating in her hands – but the realization she needed to stay alert won out. She couldn’t afford to tire herself out. This situation wasn’t resolved yet.

In trembling fingers, the cauterizer pen began the tricky work of knitting the two sides of the gash together, ragged edges turning into bright pink tissue under its beam. Despite Ben’s grogginess, he flinched as she began, and continued to hold himself stiff as she continued.

“Does it sting?”

“Burns.” He mumbled, and for the first time Rey noticed his fists clenched in his lap.

She switched off the pen, kneeling down to look him in the eye. “Do you need a break? I’m halfway done.”

Ben looked at her foggily, dark eyes glassy and focused somewhere beyond her head. “No. Finish it.” His eyes slipped closed.

Rey nodded, brushing his fingers with hers in what she hoped was a comforting gesture before resuming her efforts with the pen. She worked as quickly as possible, mindful of the shaking shoulders belonging to the man whose scalp she was knitting back together. He was going to pass out if she wasn’t careful. And Rey had the feeling that was likely not an especially good thing to happen right now.

At last, it was done. Rey clicked off the pen, shoving it back in her pocket and pulling out the Bacta patches. Ripping open one packet, she tore the patch itself in half and carefully applied both halves to the raw, red line. That should feel much better. She settled his hair so it mostly covered the wound in deference to both his vanity and his position. No weakness. He couldn’t afford it - not now. Especially without the protection of that abhorrent mask.

Rey sank back on her heels, eyeing the man before her anxiously. His eyes remained closed, but his breathing was even and unlabored. Fingers twitched slightly in his lap, responding to some unseen stimulus. A shaky sigh eked from Rey’s lungs, the tension carried there easing somewhat. She knew finding water should be next on her list of priorities, but the ache in her chest that corresponded to Luke and Leia refused to abate. Eyes closing for the briefest of moments, Rey stretched out in the Force, and to her eternal surprise she quickly found the now-familiar pattern of her former master’s burgeoning Darkness.

It rotted the hope in her chest, and she cried out for him even though the gesture was futile. Luke had not heard her before – why should now be any different? His presence undulated before her, murky and dim in a way that tore at something precious inside her. Luke’s reaction to her inevitable fall towards Ben – Kylo – held new meaning to her; meaning unattainable before now.

Seeing the destruction of his core was nearly enough to drive the power from Rey’s limbs, the breath from her chest, especially when contrasted with the wonderful golden light she had felt from him scant months ago.

_Master Luke._

Even in her mind, her voice was muted by despair. But still silence met her, so Rey let him slip away, all the while making empty promises to herself that she could never keep.

Leia’s presence was no more assuring. A tiny spark where a fire once roared, threatened by even the gentlest of breezes. Rey could sense nothing from her beyond the fact that she was still alive. She could do nothing for them – either of them. Helpless again – even with the Force. Rey could only hope the Supremacy had been able to capture Holdo’s craft before it made it to hyperspace – there was a good chance Luke and Leia would have been on board as well.

There was nothing she could do for them down here.

Instead of giving back into her mounting panic, Rey sought Ben’s presence in the waters of the Force. It barely took any concentration at all to locate his ribbon of Dark shot through with light. These days, he almost felt like an extension of herself.

Rey sat in the waters of the Force, trying to calm herself and return to focus to the problem at hand. She sensed Ben was muzzily aware of their heightened connection, even though the blankness of unconsciousness was trying to drag him down. Rey reached out, grasping him gently and dragging him away from oblivion. She could do that with Ben.

Him, she could help.

So she did, the Force leaping ahead of her in its eagerness. The surface wounds on Ben’s back were knitting together under that blue fire which she could still not fully control. She removed the heat from the burn on his belly, leaving it a dull ache. The wound on his scalp was well closed already, so she conserved her energy and left it to heal alone. Rey reminded herself that she had to be watchful for them both – she couldn’t afford to pass out. Not now.

Rey settled for half her attention on her surroundings, half of it remaining in the river of Force.

Moments wore on, and calm settled back over her. Rey focused on Ben’s steady presence, the mouth of the small cave, the darkening clouds she could spy over the treetops. A storm was surely coming. Exhale, inhale, ebb and flow. The essence of Ben, the fury of the storm about to bear on them, the rocks beneath her legs, the wind at the mouth of the cave. Rey breathed in the essence of the man she loved, and the sense of home swirled in her belly. She remembered feeling the same sentiment crossing over from Ben yesterday.

He’d tried to tell her in his own, stumbling way, - the only way she would ever want, even if she hadn’t understood him. Ben’s charcoal spirit against the ash-grey of her own, both shot through with golden Light and impossible Darkness. Alone, they were overcompensating; but together - two sides of the same coin.

A balance.

Perhaps sensing her call, Ben roused slightly and dragged Rey back from her mediation. Her concern for him renewed.  Dark eyes hazy, the fingers of his left hand were gingerly poking the patches on his scalp with his expressive mouth crinkled in consternation. It would have been humorous had it not been so far out of character.

Rey’s stomach seized, and suddenly all she could focus on was water - washing his face, his matted hair and bloodied hands, getting the scent of his blood from her nose. She realized her own face was still streaked with it from his hand.

But before she could even contemplate how to go about finding water - the desert girl in her aghast she hadn’t brought her own – large hands were on her waist, pulling her close till she was straddling two large legs.

“Ben, what -” her words were silenced with a searing kiss, sending heat down from her head all the way to her center. His bloody hands wandered in a way they never had before, below her outer robe, thumbs under her tunic and rubbing slow circles on the skin of her belly. Rey’s breathing quickened, her heartbeat accelerating till it raced in her chest. “Ben - there is no way this is good for your head.” A thunderclap, and Rey had no idea if it was in her own skull or outside the cave.

Ben grumbled against her mouth, capturing her lower lip in his teeth and splaying a hand across her stomach. “You, hush. You aren’t... really here. Why... are you talking?” Cold fingers, warm breath.

Rey almost laughed, but his fingers tracing the ropy scar across her abdomen were all too serious. She tried to ignore the lick of flame in her belly in response, but it was only growing hotter. “Of course I’m here, Ben, I just fixed your head - what do you mean?” The words were muffled against his open mouth, her lip still caught gently between his teeth as he kissed her again.

Ben released her lip to plant sloppy kisses against her throat, and Rey gasped despite herself. “Rey would... never let me do this. You must be... a hallucination. Head injury. A construct. My good angel, _mine_.” His words were punctuated by kisses, fingers hooking themselves into the waistband of her leggings. She felt a twitch below the join of her thighs, a hardness, and the flame in Rey’s center became an entire forest fire. The Force in her flared to life, seeking _something_.

Even as she tried to still his roving hands, her mind was churning with possibilities. _Rey would absolutely let you do this, you nerf herder. Rey has been wanting you to do this for weeks._ She cleared her throat as he left another kiss on her dirt-streaked neck. “Ben - it’s me. I really am here.”

“Liar.” A kiss on her collarbone, fingers on her hip. “I fucked it all up again.” Fingers brushing her scar again, and she wanted him to go _lower_. “I tried - I tried to tell her.” Kisses back on her mouth, one hand tangled in her dirty hair. “And she didn’t -” teeth on her earlobe, one hand cupping her chest “-understand, and then I just _left_.”

Rey gave in, despite her better judgment, running her fingers through his lovely, filthy hair, carefully avoiding the Bacta patch. Smudged fingers brushed down the bumpy tracks of scars, smoothing away some of the still-slick blood that remained on his cheek. She returned his kisses with abandon, letting go of her fear.

She reveled in the knowledge that he didn’t hate her, that he wasn’t going to leave her. That he regretted the fight, regretting shutting her out. He was broken, as she was. They were the same jagged edges, bound to grind against each other from time to time. But they still _fit_.

“She came after you.” Rey said, breathing it softly into his ear. “She found a way. She came down to this planet to find you, because _she_ was the one who fucked it all up. She didn’t hear your meaning past her own fears.” Ben stiffened under her, so Rey pulled back to face him, keeping her hands on his face, his shoulder. “And she did find you.” She smiled at his confusion, leaning down to kiss him again, just a peck. “Because she loves you. And she was afraid.”

She leaned back till she was sitting on his thighs, looking at him straight in his dark eyes. A heartbeat. Two. Three. And he _understood_.

“Rey.” Her name fell from his mouth, naked disbelief on his face. “It is you.”

“Of course it is, you nerf herder.” She smiled, this time enjoying his confusion. “You saw me before this, you know. I saved your ass back there, and then you just forget me? You really did bang your head.”

“Oh Maker - Rey, I’m sorry -” a pink flush rose in bloodless cheeks, eyes looking anywhere but her dirt-smudged face.

“For what?” _For lighting a fire that you aren’t going to extinguish?_

 _“_ I would never have... disrespected you in this -” Ben gestured lamely to their surroundings, her kiss-swollen lips, the red marks on her throat.

Rey rolled her eyes, suppressing a snort. “Stop. Just stop. Do I look disrespected to you? Do I look like I want to curl into a ball or run away? No?” Rey sat back on her heels, trying to move herself away from the warmth of his lap for both of their sakes.

Ben just stared at her, his thoughts inscrutable. He was retreating again. But this time Rey wasn’t going to let him. She sought the Bond, pouring forth all her emotion and hoping he could feel her. _No you don’t. I did not fight my way down here for you to shut down on me. Feel me, Ben Solo._ Her remorse and the nearly-consuming guilt she felt regarding the events of last night. The irrational panic when she thought of losing him. Her concern, the bright-burning fire of arousal that he had ignited in her, and above all else - her unconditional love and acceptance.

She could do no less.

The darkening of his pupils and the loosening of his jaw sent another jolt through her belly and down to her core. Rey smirked at him, moving off his lap completely to stare at the sheets of rain that had started pouring down outside the cave without her notice. _There’s your water, desert girl._

Leaving Ben to sort himself out, Rey walked to the mouth of the cave. After a moment’s hesitation, she rolled up the sleeves of her robe and stuck her hands into the falling drops with elation.

She’d only felt rain a few times in her life - and it was almost always magical. Washing the blood from her hands, she remembered the last time she had felt the precipitation - on Ahch-To. Ben had been there too - but she had called him Kylo then. Hadn’t wanted him there. Pushed him away.

But now, she wanted him beside her more than anything.

Life was strange.

Two warm hands grasped her shoulders, and inky-soft hair brushed her ear as Ben gently kissed her cheek - mercifully not the one smeared with his blood. One hand moved from her shoulder to wet itself in the rain, then returned to gently wash his blood from her face. Rey leaned into his touch, letting his fingertips on her cheek stoke the fire between her thighs again while at the same time she tried to push it away. Now was not the time.

She raised her own wet hands to his face, twisting herself so she could more fully see him. Rey wiped away the streaks of dried blood and dirt, revealing the face of the man she loved. The scar that she had given him, and the scars he had gotten in her defense. He was wonderful - _wonderful_.

Ben’s eyes darkened, breaking away to drop her gaze. “How can you think that?”

Rey blinked, unaware he had been able to discern her feelings. “Think what?”

“I am far from wonderful. I’m a monster - how can I come to you when I have so much blood on my hands?”

Rey turned her palms outwards, still reddened with his own blood. “Do my hands look clean to you?” Rey grasped his hands then, turning the palms to show him the same red streaks on them. “Come to me as you are, because that’s how I want you. You are _mine_.”

His disbelief and desire warred with each other, as the Bond gave her all the insight she needed into his heart. He didn’t feel worthy of love. Couldn’t believe her. Wouldn’t let himself believe her, even when it was staring him in the face. Felt his own affection for her was a twisted, broken thing, born of a selfish desire to not be _alone_.

Rey kissed him again, softly, because it’s what he needed. She gave him everything in her heart - trying to show him everything she felt. Maybe it would be enough. Maybe when his guard was down, he could believe her.

 _I love you_.

Ben broke their kiss, pulling back to stare at her with lust-darkened eyes. The Force inside her thrummed.

He knew.

Silence. A slight flush of his bloodless cheeks. Rey knew he really needed to be sitting down, that this couldn’t be helping him. “Ben - your head...” She tried to lead him back to where he had been sitting, but he refused.

“It’s fine.” He cupped her face in his large hand, thumb slowly sweeping down her cheek. Each little wave was a fresh jolt of electricity, and Rey felt herself giving in.

It really wasn’t fine, though. As much as Rey wanted to stay in this moment forever, she wordlessly gave the strong arm gripping her own a tug.

Ben fairly growled, and brought his face within mere inches of hers. His hand never left her cheek, his breath ghosting over the skin not covered by his palm and raising gooseflesh in its wake.

“No. This time, scavenger girl - this time, I’m not going to fuck this up.”

The fire was back. Rey wrapped her arms around his neck, their lips meeting in a frantic crash. Ben’s arms went to her waist again, tugging her so close that she could _feel_ him against her belly. And Maker, did she.

There was only one way this could go. They had passed the point of no return, and all their words had run dry.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: here there be smut. If you want to skip, you can safely move on to the next chapter without missing anything relevant to the plot!

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

It was the building heat she noticed first, the fire burning in her belly and at the apex of her thighs seeming the match the one she could feel through the layers of his clothing. Ben was nipping at her neck, teeth barely grazing her skin, and she was helpless to do anything other than throw her head back and feel it. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her body further up his frame and off the ground. Rey’s legs wrapped around his back of their own accord, bringing her even closer to the hardness she had felt earlier.

Her teeth found his earlobe - his lovely, endearing, oversized ears so often hidden under a curtain of dark hair - and gently nipped it, before planting a trail of urgent kisses along his temple, through his hair. His hands wandered to her back, feeling for the simple closures of her well-worn bindings and undoing them hastily. They fell open inside her garment, releasing her breasts to brush against the softness of her undershirt.

Warm hands continued their travels, mapping the smooth skin of her back, drawing simple patterns down her spine as his mouth sought hers once more.

Rey moaned against the heat of his lips, his tongue, and felt the hardness beneath her twitch in response. She could feel herself growing damp, losing herself again in the taste of Ben - something undefinable; a tang of liquor, a hint of sweetness, a bitter bite of spice. She could have kept kissing him forever.

Oh, it was right, so right, she had waited for so long –

But it was fast, so fast, and she just wasn’t sure –

But Ben’s kisses kept coming, stealing the breath from her lungs and the doubt from her mind till all she could feel was her desire and _him_.

Ben was eager, too, pushing her back against the rock of the cave wall before resuming the volley of kisses her neck, her collarbones, her cheeks; rough hands making quick work of her tattered outer robe. Suddenly, Rey felt she was wearing far too many clothes, eager for Ben to remove the rest of them.

When Ben’s roving hands hesitated at her undershirt, Rey gripped them in hers, moving along her waist to pull the garment off together in one fluid motion. Illuminated only in wash of the rain-diffuse light from outside, she quickly wiggled out of her boots and leggings to stand totally bare before him.

With a jolt of fear, Rey wondered for a moment how she looked in the soft blue light - the hollows above her hips, jutting collarbones, the small buds of her breasts, the thatch of dark hair at the join of her thighs. Did the light pool here and there, accentuating her lack of curves? The harsh lines of her body, hardened by the life she had lead? The red ropey scar that wound around her middle, spanning from her navel to her backbone; the red pucker on her shoulder and the fresh slash on her bicep?

Thunder rolled outside, the rain coming down in sheets. Rey sucked in a breath of thick air as the cold raised gooseflesh along her entire body.

When she finally gained the courage to look in Ben’s eyes, they had dissolved into dark pools of naked want. His hands trembled, reaching forward and pulling her closer, fingers running from her shoulders to her collarbones, warm hands smoothing down to cup her breasts and gently squeeze, to explore. A small kiss on the minor wound to her shoulder. A rustle of clothing, and Ben was on his knees before her, a look of near supplication written on his expressive face.

Rey jumped at the sensation of his mouth closing around the peak of a nipple, letting out a moan as his tongue lathed over her sensitive skin before applying a hint of pressure. The same treatment was applied to the other, his large hands never ceasing their wandering of her torso, pausing here and there to caress; to scratch gentle lines down her spine.

Rey wound her fingers back into his hair, resisting the urge to tug as he touched her so much - but not _enough_. She was already restless with want, and nearly without conscious thought she bucked her hips towards him, begging him to touch her center with the soft hands he was using to such effect elsewhere.

Ben stilled for a moment, planting a kiss on her breastbone as his hands slid from her breasts to her belly. “Beautiful.” He murmured it against her skin, mouth never leaving her for long as he continued to kiss down her belly to her hips, fingers warming the hollows of them with his fire. He gently tugged her down, till she too knelt on the floor of the cave, eyes wide.

“Do you trust me?” His voice was thick with lust, dark and soft as silk.

Heat lightening in a purple sky.

“With my life.” And it was true.

Spreading her robes out, Ben beckoned her to come closer, but Rey had other ideas.

“You seem to have me at a disadvantage.” Soft words, a gentle tug at his dirty surcoat. “Let me see you.”

A flicker of a grimace darkened his features, but all the same he began to undress. Rey wanted to help, but the layers looked complicated and she didn’t trust her shaking hands. Instead, she memorized the way the he undid a button here, a clasp there. Next time, it would be her job.

Quickly shedding his sleeveless undershirt, he sent it to join the puddle of his other clothes on the floor. Ben was naked from the waist up, suspenders shrugged from his shoulders and hanging loose near his hips. The small blaster burn stood out on his left side, and Rey narrowed her eyes, filing it away for later. His muscular chest and arms she had seen before, but the sight of them now sent a thrill through her the same as they had that day in the salt-laced air, so long ago.

What she had failed to notice that day were the faint lines of scars running up and down his arms, or the older near-white lines that scored his chest and back. Remnants of battles fought, both internally and externally. She was going to kiss them all. Every one of them. That seemed fair - a kiss for every hurt.

She would start with the three bright red lines on his left arm. The red-stained sheets came back to her, and she was ashamed. Wordlessly, she reached for his arm, capturing it without a fight. She felt Ben’s flinch as her fingers ghosted over the half-healed cuts, then her lips, as soft as she could manage - a kiss, a second, a third.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He bent to kiss her again, the force of it pushing her back on her bottom, flat on her outspread robes. He continued his pursuit till she was laying on her back, knees open and thighs cradling his large chest. Her arms wound around his neck, fingers tracing the lines of his shoulder blades, the muscles of his back, the little bumps along his spine.

After a languid kiss Ben pulled away, leaving her once again wanting the taste of him in her mouth. He knelt between her open legs, the dampness of her slit on full display. Rey had to resist the urge to close her knees and hide - but before she could act, Ben placed his hands on her hips, dragging her forward. One large finger brushed past her clit, and Rey moaned despite her best intentions.

Heat flooded her body as her nerve endings cried out for more. _Yes. Yes, this._ The Force rose within her, the Bond echoing her sentiments.

Ben chuckled darkly, resuming his attentions on her center and swirling his thumb on the sensitive bud near the top. Rey wriggled and cried out, hands fisting in the material at her sides. He was relentless, smoothly moving between thumbing her clit to circling a finger, two fingers, at her entrance, or through her slick wetness, back and forth, again and again - sometimes all together. Rey bucked her hips forward, aching to have something of him inside her, a cry escaping her lips.

“Not so fast, _scavenger_. I won’t deny you. _”_ The dark tone sent a thrill down her spine, and before she could register what he was doing, he was everywhere. Rey lost track of the sensations as they flooded her - a circle and a flick around her entrance, a gentle pressure on her swollen clit. A mixture, a pattern - but not. He would tease her repeatedly, then release her in pursuit of some new gesture, new pleasure.

Rey was panting, her skin beading with sweat, feeling her release build and build till the fire of it felt nearly ready to consume her. “Ben...” she panted, nearly coming off the ground as he gave an especially ungentle flick. She was seeing stars.

“Yes, Rey?” Dark. Velvet. _Power_. He slid a finger inside her at last, feeling the tightness of her and searching, searching, for just _that_ spot as his thumb continued to circle. Two fingers, and oh – Maker, he was – she couldn’t – he drew his fingers in, and out, in and out, crooking them together inside her and brushing _something,_ a pause and a swirl and a tug -  and then - she was undone, throwing back her head and crying out his name as the stars fell apart, the stardust settling around them like rain.

She hadn’t known it could feel like this. No fevered imaginings in the dark could compare to _this_.

 _“_ Was that... alright?” Ben pulled back for a moment, looking almost worried. Rey nearly laughed, but decided a kiss was a far better answer.

Without separating their joined lips, Rey felt down Ben’s chest for the fastening of his pants, carefully avoiding the site of the blaster burn. Leaning on one arm, Ben reached down and made quick work of the buckle, kicking off his boots and standing momentarily to fully shrug out of his pants. Whatever hesitation he had felt before appeared to have evaporated, and Rey was immensely thankful.

Ben was every inch toned, his well-muscled thighs and calves a perfect counterbalance to his broad chest. Even down his legs, the skin was marked here and there with faint scars, some fresh and others faded. But what she was most interested in was his erect cock, the top weeping fluid. He closed a large hand around it, and the shaft fit neatly in his palm. His thumb spread the clear liquid across the tip till it glistened in the dim light.

Even as her belly coiled in delight, her tiny bit of rational thought left in her brain wondered how in the world she was going to manage what she knew came next. Rey nearly opened her mouth then, trying to explain her virginity, but kept it to herself. She could manage.

She had imagined far beyond enough to understand.

Ben knelt again, crawling between her still-spread thighs. As his body grew closer, Rey could feel her swollen sex grow even more damp as instinct replaced what experience could not provide.

Maker, but she needed him inside her.

Carefully, Ben aligned himself at her entrance, and Rey resisted the urge to tilt her hips and pull him in. She trusted him - she could let him control this. Rey looked at him then, feeling that her eyes were wide both with arousal and fear. He smoothed a hand over her hair, planting a kiss on her forehead.

“Do you trust me?” He asked again, dark eyes burning.

“Always.”

Steadying herself, Rey felt Ben push inside her, slowly. She forced herself to relax as his girth slid into her body, the stretching sensation both pleasant and painful. There was a slight pressure, and a tearing - she whimpered more from surprise than any true pain. Ben stopped immediately, eyes flying to hers in shock. His jaw slacked with understanding, and he exhaled unsteadily. He looked so nervous, the confidence he had held moments before fleeing in the face of this new understanding.

Before Ben could say anything, Rey rose up and kissed him, ignoring the slight twinge within as she did so as her movement brought his cock further into her body. _Trust_. She brushed her tongue along his lips, deepening the kiss as she settled back against the ground, dragging him along with her.

There was passion here, but the burn was slow. Ben moved against her with a tenderness she hadn’t expected, as if taking care not to move too hard, too fast in an effort to spare her pain. He was slow, and patient, never pushing or harsh. She reveled in it, adjusting to the strange sensation of feeling Ben’s cock move inside her body. Her fingers tightened on his shoulder blades, goading him forward. Ben moaned against her chest, dipping his head to capture a nipple between his teeth. A fresh wave of pleasure shot down her stomach, terminating at the place where their bodies joined.

Rey drew her knees up higher, pulling herself closer to meet his next thrust. She was ready. She wanted all of him, needing to feel the fire and the fury she knew lived within Ben’s chest. Rey rose upwards to meet his hips, her inexperience causing her to miss the rhythm. She tried again, and again, each time falling more in step with the push of Ben’s body against hers.

Ben groaned, a curse falling from his lips to brush along her neck. Black hair formed curtain around their faces as he pulled her closer, so close that his nose nudged her cheek as he thrust into her again.

Rey cried out wordlessly, feeling him settle even deeper inside her and brushing past just _that_ spot as he pulled away. The further he sank inside her, the more Rey felt the tickle of the Bond in the back of her mind. It was almost as if she could feel -

And then, she _could_. She felt herself from the inside out, both a pleasurable fullness and a tight sheath around silken steel. She cried out in surprise, Ben making a similar noise against her mouth as he drove himself inside her again.

Galaxies blossomed and died around Rey, but she found she couldn’t care. The entire universe was contained in the eyes of the man above her, burning with the lust and completion of two people who finally, _finally_ found the belonging they had needed for so long. He moved within her and without her, and she lost herself in the rhythm of their bodies. The Bond sang, the Force gathered around them in triumph. This was what it had wanted. What it had needed.

What she had wanted. What she had needed.

A thrust, a rise of hips to meet. Skin against skin, slick with sweat and charged with electricity. Fingers twined within each other, hearts and bones spun together as one. A thrust, a rise. And many more.

Rey believed it was her cry that she first heard, but she couldn’t be sure. A sun had gone nova in her belly, and she was _burning_. She bit the lip that had been caressing hers, a tang of blood and a bite on her own shoulder were her rewards.

A moment later, Ben had left her for the last time, a warm wetness spreading on her belly as he collapsed on one arm above her, half-crushing her with his weight. The spasm and twitch of his release next to her navel nearly brought her to her own again. She felt strangely bereft, the absence of both his mind and his body leaving a hole she felt she’d never fill again unless in the exact same way.

Ben lay next to her, panting, and Rey gently tugged his head onto her chest. He obeyed willingly, gently wiping her stomach with a ratty corner of her robe before wrapping his arm around her. He half lay over her body, pulling her tight against him with one heavy leg slung over hers. She cradled his head against her heart, fingers stroking and untangling his inky-black hair, soft as feathers. His fingers smoothed over the rise of the scar on her belly, the sharp point of her hipbone.

They lay there for a long time, and no words passed between them. They understood each other all the same.


	38. Chapter 38

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Bone-tired, Reth plodded towards the cave with a detachment of stormtroopers at his back. It had been hours, and there was so much shit left to wade through. So many unanswered questions. And they needed to get off this Maker-damned planet already. He was sick of it.

Last stop for him was collecting the sainted Supreme Leader and his magical mystery whatever-the-fuck-she-is Rey. Then they could board the transport and get back on the ship and Reth was going to take one of several showers. Or just one really long one. He hadn’t made up his mind yet.

Thankfully, the rain had stopped about an hour ago. Now it was just mud to slog through, not murky-hot air.

Reth rounded the corner and approached the cave, boots leaving the mushy ground and stepping onto solid rock with a quiet thump. He took a few steps into the cave and froze.

Discarded clothes. Bare feet and legs. Shit. Kriffing _hell_ these two were absolutely insufferable. He could have been out there dying to save their asses and they just now decided to scratch the itch that had been brewing for half a year now? He had been sitting through months of hormone charged drama, suffering in silence, as this was how they repaid him? There were going to be Words Said Over This. He smacked his forehead with his palm, running it down his face in exasperation. Messy, inconvenient, _emotions_.

Reth put up a fist, halting the troopers behind him and before whispering harshly. “If you value your lives - or at least your eyeballs - retreat. And go tell the transport to land directly next to the mouth of this cave. That’ll teach them.” This last part was grumbled under his breath as he stalked off to await the ship. The two troopers nearest to him exchanged a confused look before following his retreating form, the other eight white-clad soldiers filing in obediently.

It was only moments before the roar of a ship thundered in the air, and Reth grinned wickedly as he heard a girlish squeak above the din.

_Serves you right, scavenger girl._

\-----

Aboard the transport after a less-than dignified scramble for clothes, Kylo sat beside Rey, watching her intently. She looked distinctly disheveled in a way that could have been attributed to the battle but was far more easily pinned on sex. Her outer robe had been discarded, a pool of extremely obvious fluid in the middle of it rendering it useless in addition to the tatters it had already been reduced to. It was a shame - he had rather liked that robe. Her bindings, however - those he didn’t miss so much. Sacrificed to cleanup and a broken clasp, they too stayed behind in the cave. Rey sat beside him in just her tan leggings and tunic, tied in such a way that no one would know how her small breasts were free beneath it.

His belly gave a jolt at the thought. Kylo pushed it away, instead wondering how he looked in comparison to her. He had a strange feeling his hair was sticking up at odd angles.

He could feel Reth’s eyes burning into the side of his head from further up the transport and resolved to deal with him later. The Monk had to know what had passed between the two of them in that cave. The ship landing meters from the entrance to the cave was no accident.

Kylo found himself largely unable to care. His mind wandered along without him, and he tried not to get lost in the memory of Rey’s soft skin. Or perhaps the way her eyes glowed as she had stripped and stood before him, naked and trusting. The way the rain-soaked light had shown him the peaks and valleys of her body. The taste of her. The sound she made at the height of her pleasure. The way her body felt around his – and in turn, how he had felt in hers. The strange Force connection that had furthered their Bond.

There was much to think on. And much else besides. From the brief rundown Reth had given him, he knew they had missed their chance at nabbing Holdo and lost nearly two platoons of troopers to the brief battle. Less than the breakaway faction of the Resistance had lost, but the fact remained that this was no victory. There were mixed reports about the mystery weapon that had wounded him - and no one understood how Rey had been thrown clear of the blast without so much as a scratch. It had been luck alone that had spared the other three Knights, having been chasing down another direction on the opposite side of the forest when the short battle began.

They needed answers. They needed a debrief. They needed a plan.

Before that, he needed a shower.

The ship finally docked in the landing bay. Kylo stood, offering Rey his hand. Her palm was clapped in his without hesitation, and she remained close by him as they descended down the gangway. He could feel her trembling - with cold or fear?

_You’re shaking._

_I’m alright. Space is just cold, and I’m wearing fewer clothes than I started out with._

_Warm shower?_

_Maker, yes._

He chuckled internally and was warmed by her bright laugh in turn. He could get used to this feeling. This closeness. The Bond somehow now seemed even deeper. It had held them fast together across the galaxy, bringing them inexorably together, but now it felt more a part of him than his very bones.

But the time for reflection was later. Now it was time for action. Now, he was Kylo Ren.

“You, trooper.” Kylo called after the white-armored body nearest to them. He stilled immediately, ramrod straight with obedience and fear. The Supreme Leader suppressed a grimace. Perhaps some changes needed to be made to the stormtrooper program, as well. At the last moment, he recalled that he was maskless – a fact which likely added to the trooper’s anxiety.

“Sir.”

“What’s your designation, trooper?”

“RT-5423, Sir.”

“RT, please take a message to the bridge. All senior command officers are to assemble in the main conference room at - what time is it now?”

“Nearly 2015, sir.”

“Assemble at 2200.”

“Yes sir.”

“Have anyone who was also down on the surface with you report to Phasma immediately to debrief. Once that’s accomplished, the rest of the evening and tomorrow is your own. My orders, if Phasma has a problem with it. Dismissed.”

“... yes, sir.”

The trooper turned toward the elevator, and Kylo felt his shoulder captured by a strong hand. “Kindness towards the bucketheads, whatever next from our venerated Supreme Leader.” Reth’s rumble was sarcastic, but lacking bite.

“Change comes from within.” Kylo said simply. He felt rather than saw Rey’s smile at his words.

“There seems to be quite a lot of... change... here recently.” The Monk’s dirt-smeared forehead creased as he knit his brow together in consternation.

Kylo opened his mouth to retort, but Rey jumped in before he could say anything else.

“It’s good to see you unharmed, Reth.” Rey said kindly, as if sensing that this conversation was about to go down a path that neither of them wanted it to. “I take it the rustling in the bushes were friendlies after all?”

“You’ll hear about it at the briefing.” He brushed her off, turning away and almost stomping down the hallway opposite where the lifts were.

“...okay!” Rey called after him, waving her free hand and rolling her eyes. “Prat.” She muttered under her breath, and Kylo snorted. He couldn’t argue.

The ride to their floor was silent, and Kylo followed Rey to her door once the lift deposited them on their floor. He felt like a lost puppy - but he didn’t want to be parted from her. Not yet. Rey paused at her door, looking him up and down and smirking. “Ben. We both need a shower. I’m not going to disappear.” She stood on tiptoes and gave him a brief kiss, which he longed to deepen. But it was the middle of the hallway and it was a well-established fact that he lacked self-control.

“Ten minutes.” He growled against her mouth, and Rey laughed. He almost did, too.

“I’ll be waiting for you when it’s time for the briefing. I’m going to need more than ten minutes to fix this.” She gestured downward to her ruined clothes, frowning slightly as she noticed a hole in the knee of her leggings.

“Fix what? Everything appears to be in order to me.” Kylo said deadpan, looking her straight in the eyes. _She could be covered in mud and I would still call her a vision._ He softened his expression ever so slightly.

His reward for the gentle teasing was a bright smile and another kiss - during which he took the liberty of letting his hands trail down to her hips. Pushing his luck was another specialty. Rey pushed his wandering hands away with a laugh and placed her palm on her door control, unlocking it. Kylo watched her disappear behind the door with a sigh before turning and entering his own room. Fifteen steps, that’s all it was. But it felt like fifteen miles.

Kylo realized he was beginning to sound like a lovesick teenager and was rather disgusted with himself.

He struggled out of the dirty, bloodstained clothes and cut on the taps to the shower. He stood in the ‘fresher a moment, poking at the Bacta patches on his scalp before ripping them off. He felt fine. Not need to walk around with a giant white flag on his head, no matter how well Rey had hidden them. The mirror fogged, and he stepped into the shower stall, grateful for the warmth of the spray on his sore back.

The water ran down blush-pink, pooling at his feet in a bloodied lake. Closing his eyes against the sight, he leaned against the wall of the shower, letting the water wash over him and suddenly feeling very tired. His hair grew wet and heavy, falling over his closed eyes. The cut on his scalp stung. The cuts on his back stung. The three half-healed red lines on his arm were silent.

The bite on his lip burned, and his cock twitched at the memory of how he had received _that_ particular wound. Rey rising up in the throes of her passion, her muddied green eyes staring into his soul. Her nails scoring his back, lightly at first, then deeper, not enough to break the skin but branding him all the same. Her mouth on his, her teeth marking his lip. The gift of her trust, her virginity – something precious which he never deserved. Maker knows he had surely not come to her as inexperienced as she had been.

His disloyal mind recalled the way her body felt around his cock as he drove himself inside her, the feeling of being _home_. He could feel the tension inside her straining to be set free, the strange connection of the same fire burning in his own belly alongside hers. The joined sensations of her mind and his, their bodies together till nothing could separate the two of them. Her legs tight around his hips, the pure heat of her body as she tightened around him in release, head back and crying his name. There had been nothing else but _her_.

 _Maker - not now._ He tried to put these thoughts away, but still the girl lingered. Kylo groped blindly for the soap, deciding to hurry up and get out of the shower if that’s how it was going to torment him.

A few moments of furious scrubbing removed the last of the blood, dirt, and sweat on his skin. He found himself wishing it hadn’t removed the scent of Rey along with it. _Listen to yourself. Pull it together. You’re being disgusting. Weak little mewling thing._

He switched the taps to cold for a moment, standing stock still in the punishing blast as it took the breath from his lungs. _You cannot be Ben Solo, boy in love. You have to be Kylo Ren, master of the galaxy. Keep them separate. Keep her safe. Concentrate._

Kylo turned off the taps and stepped out, water dripping from his shaggy hair. He dried and dressed in short order, wearing a near carbon copy of the clothes he had been wearing planetside.

As he was furiously toweling off his damp hair, there was a small tap at his door. A quick glance at the chrono told him it was only 2104 - not time to leave for the briefing.

He opened the door to reveal the woman he loved. The scent of her damp hair assaulted his senses - a forest, dark and deep. She was wearing all black. The front panel of her form-fitting overshirt hung open just enough for him to glimpse the smooth skin of her chest, but not far enough to see the red welt he had left on the join of her shoulder and neck. Fragrant wet hair was twisted into an approximation of a bun at the nape of her neck. She was fresh-faced and smiling, her cheeks pink from her own shower.

“Miss me?” She leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over her petite breasts and smiling in a way that did indecent things to his midsection.

They were going to be late.


	39. Chapter 39

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

They were late.

Kylo and Rey had stumbled into the conference room at 2203 exactly, after fixing disheveled hair and rumpled clothing with frantic composure in the elevator. He had pulled Rey’s hair back for her as she rebuttoned her tunic, and she had been both amused and a little embarrassed to find that the bun he had given her was far neater than any she could have done herself. Kylo resolved to keep doing her hair - or at least to teach her what little he knew. A memory of his mother’s elaborate hairstyles threatened to unbalance him, but he put it away just before Hux turned towards them. To his surprise, though he gave a start at Kylo’s maskless appearance, the look of vague illness on Hux’s his face was not at the sight of him, but of Rey.

“Ah, the mysterious and estimable Hand of the Knights of Ren. And how did you find D’Qar? I trust your transport to the planet was... satisfactory?” The ginger man held something in his eyes that Kylo didn’t like, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was. And just how the fuck did he know Rey as the Hand?

Sensing his discomfort, Rey interjected quickly _. I’ll explain later. How else did you think I got on a transport?_

Kylo felt jealousy welling up inside of him, imagining all sorts of things, but Rey gently quelled it. I _force-choked the shit out of Hux in a hallway, in public. Relax._

Kylo did not relax. But he didn’t escalate things further, which was something. “General Hux, I understand there was some... difficulty in securing the Hand’s transport to the planet. In the future, please accord her all the respect due to any of the other Knights.” This was said politely, but steel coated the backs of his words and his stare was full of meaning.

Hux nodded, looking between the two of them as if he sensed something. “But of course. It was entirely my error, Supreme Leader.” He bowed and stepped over to a seat to the right of the one at the head of the long conference table.

 _That’s your place._ Kylo growled, wanting to push Hux aside quickly and install Rey there immediately.

_Not tonight, it’s not._

_Start as you mean to continue._

_Put me to your left, then. No sense in kicking a hornet’s nest. No one knows me, Ben. It’s already going to be A Thing._

_Not more so than last night._

But at the look in her eyes he acquiesced, escorting Rey to the seat on his immediate left to the raised eyebrows and narrowed eyes of all present - none more so than General Hux. A moment of silence reigned as both Kylo and Rey seated themselves, the others following in short order. It was a small group, full of important faces - Hux, Phasma, his chief intelligence officer Colonel Veers, chief security officer Colonel Garmuth, and the Monk, who had maneuvered himself so that he was between Rey and Veers. The latter was already eyeing Rey with something akin to the slavering smile of a wolf. As everyone else sat the rest of the Knights filed in silently, hovering behind Rey and Kylo’s chairs like guardian ghosts.

“I suggest we begin. It’s been a very long day and I do not intend to make this a long meeting.” Kylo folded his hands on the table, still-sore back ramrod straight. He pointedly ignored the almost-silent snort from Reth’s direction. “Veers, I want to know where we think Holdo is now.”

“Supreme Leader, all due respect, but we don’t know. We will have to go back go boots on the ground again in order to track her and the rest of her group. We’ll find her though, sir, I already have men working on it.”

Kylo snarled, “Not good enough. This is the second time she’s slipped through our fingers. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that this remains our top priority. We bring Holdo in, have her face justice, and the First Order becomes the peace-keepers in the eyes of the galaxy. It’s very important that she be taken alive.”

Rey quirked an eyebrow at him surreptitiously, but nothing was said internally or otherwise.

“As soon as we have updated information, you will have it, sir.” His vaguely weasel-like face was twisted and pale, plainly expecting some sort of reprisal, but Kylo had none for him.

“Phasma, the breakdown of the stormtrooper’s reports of the battle.”

Phasma’s voice filtered through her helmet, metallic and distorted as all trooper’s were. “As you might surmise, there are no eyewitness accounts of the fight in the clearing excepting your own, and those of - ”she gestured vaguely in the direction of Rey and the Monk. “The others are disheartened as to the outcome of the surprise attack, and unsure how to combat the weapon that was faced - or truly, what it even was. There are... distressing reports of troopers just being vaporized, in an instant. Indeed, there was no... organic cleanup.”

“That holds with what I saw.” The Monk broke in, his serpentine voice somewhat of a shock after becoming more used to hearing him without his mask. “I saw a man run to the middle of the clearing, activate what looked like a thermal detonator - and then, nothing. A shock wave, some shrapnel -” he gestured towards Kylo, referencing his head wound - “but nothing like I expected. And the Hand was thrown totally clear of the blast, without a scratch.”

He felt Rey go still, unsure what to interject. All eyes were on her now. He tried to think warm, encouraging thoughts towards her. Rey was more than capable of holding her own.

“That’s true. I woke up nearly half a click from where I had been, without so much as a bruise. Thrown clear.” Rey’s voice trembled only slightly.

“From where she was standing, she should have... suffered injuries far worse than those of the Supreme Leader.” Reth was putting it delicately. From where Rey had been standing, she should be dead, and Kylo knew it. Reth knew it. The hollow tone in his voice as he had lied to him in the ruins of the clearing would rot in his mind for longer than Kylo cared to admit.

Hux cleared his throat. “We know that the Hand has exhibited force use.”

 _You mean I humiliated you with it this morning and it’s all over the holonet now._ “Yes. I am a Force-user, General Hux.”

Kylo blinked, only years of practice keeping him from grinning at Rey’s internal sass. Oh, these meetings were going to be so much better with her.

“Is it possible that it was an unconscious protection?”

 _Maker, Hux, that wasn’t half stupid._ Perhaps that’s the reason the three of them survived.

Now it was Rey’s turn to flinch with concealed laughter. “It’s possible.” She said to the General, leaving it at that. He could tell she had bookmarked the thought for later exploration, however. The idea did have merit.

Veers frowned. “How do we know the weapon itself didn’t throw her? Maybe that was its design and the troopers and rebels just have yet to be found?”

Reth answered quickly. “That was my thought upon seeing the Hand alive and unharmed. When I heard movement in the forest again, I assumed it was some of the missing men - but it was only a small detachment from the reinforcements that had been sent down, joined by the other three Knights. Once I rejoined with them, we searched a wide area together looking for others. We found nothing.”

“Regardless,” Garmuth broke in, his leonine voice booming as he leaned forward to place his hand on the table, “this is a serious threat. It’s a powerful device with a wide radius, easily concealed, which took out nearly a platoon of troopers and many of their own people in the blink of an eye. They’ve already used it once in a civilian setting. We have no way of stopping this.”

“It’s also telling how they are willing to sacrifice their own fighters.” Phasma added. Her devotion to her troopers was legendary - such a waste seemed to pain her.

“Agreed.” Kylo said, frowning. “This is not the last time they’re going to use this. Was there anything left of it?”

Phasma shook her head. “From the reports, my understanding is that the fragments gathered were all smaller than a man’s thumb and were of regular thermite casing. No inner workings or anything else that would indicate how the weapon functions, or how to defend against it.”

Kylo scowled darkly at this displeasing news.

Veers did as well. “I’m put in the mind for the potential of mass civilian casualties... this faction is tracking far more extremist than anyone should be comfortable with.” The Colonel leaned back in his chair, looking pensive.

“No one is comfortable with it, Veers,” growled Kylo, “which is why we’re going to stop it. _Find her._ ” His blood was up - he felt like himself. He watched the backs of his advisors straighten even as Rey shrunk back. “Is there anything else I should be aware of?”

“Not regarding today’s incursion, Supreme Leader, but I would beg your indulgence for a moment...” Hux trailed off as the datapads of everyone in the room went off simultaneously.

The Monk was the fastest on the draw, thumbing his datapad open and sending it to the center of the table with hologram projected for all to see. It was a series of shots, taken from various worlds across the galaxy. The same scenario played out in each - a busy city center; a schoolyard; a market. Full of activity and life. A lone man walks in, activates the weapon in his hand, and leaves a smoking depression in the earth with no one at its center.

Kylo felt Rey’s distress as his own, feeling her eyes well with tears as she watched a schoolyard full of children playing disappear in the blink of an eye. He cut his eyes away from the looping holo to watch her. She was still in mastery of herself, but plainly affected by the intelligence report. One knuckle was resting between two teeth, unshed tears wavering in her eyes. Kylo caught Hux staring at her as well, the man transparent in his surprise. He clearly wasn’t expecting the Hand to be anything different than the rest of the Knights.

But oh, how she was. And Kylo could already see the gears turning in Hux’s brain, plans spinning up behind his eyes.

On the third loop through the holos, Rey broke the silence. “What worlds are these?” Her voice was thick, choked with emotion. All attention was on her again, but her eyes were staring into the blue-tinted images, lost in thought.

“The school is on Hays Minor,” offered Garmuth, “the city center is Vardos. And the market...”

“Coruscant underworld.” The Monk said softly, eyes also not leaving the holo. Kylo felt a pang of sympathy for Reth. In another life, that had been his home.

“We should do something.” Rey said softly.

Veers cleared his throat. “All due respect, ma’am - but we will be doing something by capturing Holdo.”

“It’s not enough.”

“The Hand is correct.” _Hux?_ Kylo watched in interest as the ginger-haired man tapped out something on his own datapad, speaking slowly. “We can offer supplies and other humanitarian aid. Perhaps even some trooper presence - Hayes Minor and Vardos are technically First Order worlds, after all. Coruscant may be a different story but having a visible reaction to this tragedy can only help our image.”

“ _And_ those people.” Rey said, eyes narrowing a smidge.

“Perhaps you would care to assist?” Hux was grinning like a fox, Veers was looking at him like he had lost all sense. Garmuth was pensive, and Phasma an unknown under her silver helmet.

“Of course I wou-“

“Excellent.” Hux broke in, and Kylo sent Rey a wave of appreciation and relief. _This, Rey. This is why I wanted you involved. I’ll explain more later._

Rey sent back a ripple of blurry emotions, sadness covered in resolve. _How could I not help?_

_Exactly. How could you not?_

“... I’ll arrange for the supplies. Phasma, please search the ranks and arrange for two platoons each to Hayes Minor and Vardos. We will make an offer of the same to Coruscant, though I doubt it will be accepted.” Hux was buried in his datapad, tapping out commands furiously.

“The Hand should travel to Hayes Minor.” Kylo said quickly, barely sparing a glance at Rey. He knew this was the right call.

“Agreed.” Said Hux, without looking up.

“The Monk will accompany her.” Kylo continued. He couldn’t go, it would be too much of a bullseye on both of their backs. Besides - Rey should stand as a presence of her own, away from him. Separate. The good angel, the gentle queen.

“Yes Sir.” The Monk’s voice was devoid of inflection or emotion, watching the holo loop that still replayed on his ‘pad. Kylo felt a flicker of worry but dismissed it nearly as quickly as it had come.

Rey said nothing, only nodding. Kylo watched as she surveyed the table, making eye contact with each in turn. Phasma dipped her head, Veers held her gaze, while Garmuth looked away quickly. Hux had the audacity to grin.

He didn’t like that grin.

“Phasma, arrange for the Monk and the Hand to be on a transport to Hayes Minor tomorrow with the troopers and supplies. As early as possible. We should get in front of this. Hux, contact whatever General is the closest to Vardos and arrange for the same. Dismissed, everyone. It’s late.”

“Supreme Leader, a moment.” Hux was looking at him intently. Fuck. It was probably important. And he wasn’t even being a prick about it, so Kylo couldn’t very well keep brushing him off.

_Go ahead. I’ll be down directly._

_I’ll order food. Come to mine._ Without so much as a smile Rey brushed past him on her way out, filing into the lift behind Reth. It was the way of things, in public. For now.


	40. Chapter 40

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Kylo turned to Hux as the room emptied, trying very hard to make himself as approachable as possible. For the First Order to fall in line, he needed Hux on his side - and he had a feeling this conversation could be a turning point in that particular battle.

Hux walked a few steps closer, looking pensive. He opened his mouth once and closed it with a click, clearly reconsidering his previous thought. The ginger man began again haltingly, as if the words almost pained him. “This girl, the Hand of the Knights. The media’s so-called Grey Lady. She could be very useful to the Order.” There was an off-putting wheedling quality to his tone - the General trying to placate and please.

Kylo pretended to play dumb, allowing Hux to continue his train of thought. He merely blinked, shifting his arms slightly to convey boredom or annoyance.

Hux continued, with more vigor this time. “She’s young, she’s pretty, she’s a powerful Force user. She has a sort of compassion, but she’s also not going to back down. She lacks artifice. To the public’s eye, she would be an excellent counterpoint to your... you-ness.” _Ah yes, here comes the sass._ Kylo steeled himself for more, but it seemed there was no fire in Hux today. “She could be the rallying point that brings the galaxy to our side. Would she cooperate with us? Play the part?” The odd note of hope at the end of his request was incongruous with the disinterested expression he was adopting. Hux wanted Rey for the First Order - badly.

“I think you’ll find the Grey Lady completely uncooperative unless events ascribe to her moral code.” Kylo said slyly, crossing his arms over his chest. “She is... singular.”

“Yes, she is.” _Oh gross, puppydog eyes from Armitage._ Kylo sensed the reverence the other man was displaying for Rey was not born of anything as base as an emotional attachment or physical lust. The man saw a delicious looking pawn and knew she was in the right position to take down the enemy queen - he was practically salivating. The strategy centers in his brain must be blazing like a new-formed star. “What events would not subscribe to her moral code?”

“Do you recall my question of a few weeks ago regarding the abolition of slavery? The thought exercise, I think I called it?”

Hux blinked, remembering. “Yes, of course.”

Kylo stared at the General, waiting for the token to drop.

“Oh, I see. But, if we were to... say, make steps in that direction...”

“Hux, I think the time for bandying words has passed.” _Here we are, Kylo, kill or cure. “_ The Grey Lady wants a galaxy where all beings are free. Where there is peace. And I agree.” He paused, watching the ginger stiffen in surprise. “The galaxy has suffered greatly at the hands of the Republic. The Empire. The Alliance’s Republic. If we are just a copy of the Empire we will fail just as they did. Regardless of our actions, this New Republic is doomed to fail. Already, we hold more power than they could ever hope to gain back. But there is a middle ground. A grey area. Something _else_. I don’t intend on coming this far just to fail - I don’t think you do either, which is why I’m telling you this, because I think beyond all else, Hux, you want to _win_. I am choosing to trust you, Hux.”

Hux was silent, his lips drawn into a pale line. “We are not a mere copy of the Empire. We are stronger than they could ever hope to be. They merely adapted to the ruins of this galaxy, we were bred by it. Molded by it. We understand it’s inner workings like nothing else can.”

“Exactly, Hux. We stand the chance to form something that will endure. I don’t want my - _our_ \- achievements toppled in thirty years when the next cycle of unrest comes around again. I don’t want to watch my grandchildren fight the same battles I thought I had won. And you know how you keep that from happening, Hux?”

“You rule with an iron fist and crush all hope of rebellion.”

Kylo held up a hand, stopping the verbal regurgitation of his programming. “No. Might does not make right. _Right_ makes right. Rule fairly. Bring prosperity. Keep people happy. Fed. Free. Educated. The Empire has many ideas that were meritous and should be kept. Similarly, the Republic was not all bad. There is a balance to all things. Even governance. Perhaps, especially governance.”

Hux stared openly at him, but the expression on his face was not one of hostility. It was pure incredulity, and curiosity. It was a strange look for a man who usually wore a sneer or a snarl. Kylo pushed on, encouraged somewhat by the lack of an immediate poor reaction. “I don’t expect you to -”

“Fuck _me_ , but when I asked the Hand to help me reign you in this was not at all what I was expecting.” Hux barked out a laugh, removing his hat to run a hand over his red hair. A strand fell out of place, and he left it alone.

_What?_

“Nevermind that. I knew something was up - ever since Snoke _y_ ou’ve been acting different. So, I pulled the surveillance footage from the throne room. It had been wiped, but you know what was still there? The launch logs for Snoke’s shuttle, and the footage from his private docking bay. Imagine my surprise when I saw your private code launching the escape craft, and you carrying a woman - who I now know as our own lovely Grey Lady - into it. I’ve been biding my time to use it against you, but it seems I’ve been outmaneuvered. Well done, Supreme Leader.” Hux sat down in his chair, staring at the table.

Kylo sat down next to him, feeling oddly vulnerable. “It’s been months since then. You could have displaced me at any point. Why not?”

“Despite the fact that we don’t get on, Ren, I didn’t figure you as being anything other than an impulsive man with a terrible temper and the ability to use the Force. I thought you could be controlled. You weren’t a megalomaniac with a penchant for shiny robes and torture. I with saw myself as having the upper hand - or at least even footing with you - and I didn’t want to lose it.”

They sat in silence, neither of them looking at the other. Kylo felt Rey gently tug on their Bond, and he tugged back just as softly. No need to worry her. She shrank back down, seemingly contented that nothing was amiss.

Hux broke the silence first, with a massive sigh that seemed to deflate his entire persona. “Ren, whatever else this coup is, which I’m sure will include other huge shifts in policy, the other generals will not be quick to follow, if they follow at all. They are the old guard, many of them having served the Emperor himself. A policy shift on the scale you are suggesting will not be easy. The First Order could end up just as fractured as the Resistance is now.”

“I am aware.” Kylo said this softly, mind playing over the consequences for all of them if they should fail. It wasn’t an option he wanted to consider. But it was a possibility. He noted that Hux had carefully sidestepped the issue of he himself agreeing to these changes.

“The Grey Lady is the key to all of this. She is the change agent. If she gets the public support that I believe she will, she could dictate the galaxy on her own. Well, not without a fight, but still. The two of you together would appeal to almost everyone. Then, make big changes slowly, and the other generals won’t have a choice but to go along. Other voices may rise up to join ours... then those who oppose us could be removed.” Hux was truly mulling this over now, and Kylo was relieved. The gears of strategy were turning in his mind.

Kylo rose, straightening his aching back slowly. Hux stood as well, replacing his hat and smoothing back the errant strand of hair till he was every inch the regulation General once more. “I will contact you tomorrow, Supreme Leader.” For perhaps the first time, there was no sarcasm behind the title.

“I look forward to it, General.” Kylo turned toward the lift, stopping nearly mid step as a thought crossed his mind. “And General? Do keep this to yourself. If word of this gets out, I will know where it came from.”

“Sir.” Hux stayed in the conference room as Kylo entered the lift. The two men maintained eye contact as the door between them slid shut.

——

Rey stirred in the small hours of the morning, eyes opening a fraction when her bare leg encountered an unfamiliar lump in her bed. They popped open fully when she realized that the lump was actually Ben. Sitting up halfway, she propped herself on her elbow to stare at the man in bed next to her.

He was drowning in a lake of the ever-present starlight which flooded in through the large window, creating eddies and pools on the bedcovers. Ben lay on his back, head turned to the right and facing away from her. The covers had fallen to his waist, revealing his broad chest and shoulders. Blue-tinted light threw the scars that covered his skin into sharp relief - none more so than that jagged gash she had given him which ran from above his right eyebrow down to the broad expanse of chest.

It felt so long ago, the planet crumbling around them as she had slashed and hacked without art, without grace, desperation filling her body as Finn lay dying a few paces away. Her only thought had been to escape, to save her friend. Ben had terrified her, his strength and power, the incandescent rage that rolled off him. Droplets of blood landing in the snow from the bowcaster wound in his gut, from his fist pummeling it in anger. Her panicked breath making clouds in the cold air, her thin leggings soaked in the snow after a fall. She had been vaguely aware of the cold, but her rage had kept her warm.

Rey tried very hard not to think of the fact that his red saber that now rested on the ledge of her window had just ended the life of his father only moments before that duel. That her own beloved blade now held a fragment of his broken crystal. It was hard enough to reconcile the man that Ben once was with the man he was becoming.

If someone had told her that not only would she be in bed next to _Kylo Ren_ , but that she couldn’t imagine herself anywhere else - she would have decked them.

But perhaps she wouldn’t have.

Even in those days, he had been so much stronger than her. He could have kicked her off that cliffside while they had locked sabers, his strength and bulk propelling her minutely backwards as she fought with every bit of Force she could harness to resist him. He could have bested her easily. Should have bested her. Instead, he had offered to teach her.

Even now, with all her training, successfully scoring a hit on Ben was hard. When he had captured her on Takodana, he could have hurt her far worse - forced his way past her ineffective mental shields and false bravado and truly taken what he wanted. Instead, he had unmasked himself after she insulted him. He had talked quietly. No true pain had been employed in her interrogation. It was surely a strange method of extracting information.

Perhaps, even then, there had been something else.

Regardless here he was, sleeping quietly in her bed after so many tired nights of refusals, of dodging, of trudging back down the hallway half asleep because he wouldn’t let himself be that close to her - that vulnerable.

Here they were. Fates intertwined in a way nothing could ever pull apart.

 _All it took was a head injury_. Rey snorted despite herself. She knew it was more than that. It had long been inevitable. The carnal pull in the pit of her stomach spoke to it, even in the early days of their connection. She had been scared. She had fought it, tooth and claw. But in the end, her surrender had been willing. She would surrender to him again and again for the rest of her life, as he would surrender to her, as surely as if it was written in the stars.

The quality of the Force between them had changed - she felt it. It was a comfort, a peace. A oneness of spirit and self. Having him near was not only preferred, but almost as necessary as breath.

With a flicker of concern, she wondered if Reth could sense the changes, too, and what that would mean for Ben and herself in the long run.

Rey lay back against her pillow, thinking ahead to the tasks she’d undertake in just a few hours’ time. Hayes Minor was twelve hours away from their current location, and she’d be spending a night on-planet before returning to the Supremacy.

Ben had been almost openly enthusiastic as he outlined his discussion with Hux - that he was fairly sure the obnoxious general was going to come around to their way of thinking. Ben gave her a bare outline of how he had imagined her role in their brave new world to unfold. It felt odd to have that discussion in bare feet and undershirts, eating a sandwhich at nearly midnight, but that’s how it happened.

Ben wanted to use her compassion, her heart, to help others see the First Order in a new light. How together, they could affect real changes, with themselves as the face of the First Order. He hadn’t quite said it, but Rey could hear his mother’s name buzzing in her ears all the same. Rey-of-Jakku, Princess of Nowhere did not have quite the same ring as Leia Organa, Princess of Alderaan. _Be yourself_ , he had said coaxingly in response to her worries. She had argued that _herself_ was a half-wild desert rat with no good graces and who had only recently gained regular access to showers, but Ben had shushed her.

 _You are kind, and fierce._ He had said, looking at her intently. _You have a strong sense of justice. The rest of all... that, can be learned. You can’t truly learn compassion in the way that you possess it - from experience. You are the balance._

His power and impulsiveness, her compassion and control. A _balance_.

The Force inside her had purred contentedly at the thought.

Another thought occurred to Rey, and she rather lazily called upon the Force to bring her datapad into her outstretched palm. Clicking it on, she saw it was only a few hours before she would need to wake and dress to meet Reth and the transport. Ignoring the flit of fear in her chest, she instead opened the messenger screen and called up J2’s profile.

She had grown terribly fond of the protocol droid; her ever-present helper and occasional gardener.

_J2 - sorry for the late notice. I find myself in need of clothes again. Please bring up three more outfits, all in shades of grey. I need them before 0530. Thank you, my friend._

They wanted her to be the Grey Lady - she would own it.

Rey felt sleep beginning to take her again, and she drowsily snuggled closer to the warmth of Ben’s side. She did not quite allow herself the luxury of touching his bare skin, still scared that he would wake and disappear if she disturbed him. Closing her eyes, she listened to the even pattern of his breathing, forcing herself to match it as she drifted away in the Force.

She spent the twilight of her meditation watching Luke and Leia’s still-unmasked connections, almost waiting for them to fade away before her eyes.


	41. Chapter 41

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

The transport tumbled and rocked around Rey, pulling her into a false sense of slumber. She was still bone-tired after yesterday, and the broken sleep she had gotten during the night was not improved by the early morning wake.

But she had risen all the same. To her great joy Ben had still been there, staring at her with an almost-smile lazily tugging at the corners of his mouth. A plate of muffins was on the small bench, along with the outfits she had requested from J2. She had changed into one of them, a set of robes, long and sweeping in deep charcoal gray, while eating a muffin and laughing at Ben as he dodged her questions about why he had ordered them. _Because I like them_ , he had said at length.

The high red blush on his cheek had been so endearing, she had kissed him with her lips still tasting of the baked goods. He had wrapped his strong arms around her, pulling her close to make his own marks around her neck, her collarbone. Her chuckles buried themselves into his soft hair, and she was dragged back down to the bed. Rey half-jokingly told him not to mess her clothes as his lips trailed down her breastbone.

He hadn’t.

She fingered a small welt along her sternum with a smile, a nearly invisible reminder of her absent partner. She was not alone, not really, but the tug at the corner of her heart made her feel as if she was.

She didn’t notice Reth staring at her till he cleared his throat, startling her from her pleasant reverie. Rey turned toward the black-clad man, smiling what she hoped was a warm smile. “Reth. I’m sorry, I seem to be off in my own world today.”

“Kylo keep you up all night?” He groused, thankfully too softly for anyone around them to have heard. He scooted closer to her as Rey stiffened in surprise. Harsh breaths rasped through the vocoder, a sharp hiss of a snake.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Rey panicked, yanking on the Bond in an effort to get Ben’s attention. She could feel him stirring lazily, distracted by a report on his datapad.

Reth grunted and whispered savagely, “Don’t play dumb with me, sister. Who do you think found your two naked asses in that Maker-forsaken cave on that kriffing planet? I mean - you guys have lived about twenty steps away from each other for the last seven months, but get you two kids down on some fucking jungle planet and _that’s_ when you get freaky?” His voice was entirely too loud for Rey’s taste. Someone was going to hear him.

Rey opened and closed her mouth in shock. She hadn’t been expecting this line of questioning and was woefully unprepared to make excuses to the caustic-tongued Monk. “We just -”

“You _just_.” He leaned forward, and Rey was put in the mind of that vicious meeting in her room, when he had thrown her against the wall to get a rise out of Ben. The same anger coursed off of him now, and all of her senses screamed _danger, away_. “You’re just using him for his position. Bond or not, you don’t love Kylo Ren. No one loves Kylo Ren. Even when he was still Ben Solo, before all the blood on his hands, he was a miserably sad little sot. His raw strength was the only thing keeping him from being beaten to a pulp every day, that pathetic mewling little child. But I know the bent of you, Rey of Jakku. You grew up on a planet full of wolves. Kill or be killed. You see a meal ticket, and you’re going to milk it using every advantage you possess, including the one between your pretty little legs.”

Rey stood her ground, remembering what Ben had taught her; what Luke had taught her; and indeed, even what Reth himself had taught her. She was more than the sum of her parts. She wielded the Force.

With the barest twitch of her fingers, she ripped off his mask, seeing his brown eyes blank and emotionless, so unlike the Reth she had come to know. A twist of her wrist, and his jaw clicked shut as she thrust him against the bulkhead. Reth struggled against her, but she matched his tugs with her own. She would not be moved.

“I’ll tolerate no further line of questioning on this subject,” she snarled as the Dark churned in her gut, egging her forward. “What’s between Ben and I does not concern you. It will never concern you. Am I quite clear, or should I repeat myself?” With a tightening of her fingers, Rey felt herself beginning to choke Reth. It was almost without conscious thought. Her anger at being so maligned, at the cruel words aimed at Ben, was all she could focus on. Ben’s attempts at soothing her felt far away and muted, an echo buried in the recessed of her mind that the Dark swirled away as quickly as they presented themselves.

“For the record,” she said lowly, her voice a velveteen purr, “I don’t give two shits about what you or the rest of the universe thinks about Ben and I. You can fuck well and truly off, Gareth Ren. I’ll space you myself if I ever hear his name pass your lips in that manner again.”

She released him with more force than was likely necessary, causing him to slam against an empty bench. It was only then that Rey noticed the small gathering of stormtroopers that had amassed during her confrontation. Her unexpected audience immediately quieted the Dark, and Ben’s formerly muted voice came roaring back in her ears as if she had just emerged from underwater.

 _Rey!_ _The fuck is happening over there?_

 _Reth forgot himself._ Rey said coldly, standing and striding over to the lump on the floor in question. _He won’t again._

 _Did he hurt you?_ A flare of anger, and Dark. Mistrust.

_No. But I’m willing to bet he just leaked the... nature our relationship to those five troopers that are staring at me now._

Reth spat out a tooth, grinning a crooked, bloodstained smile up at Rey. A leer. “I do so like the wonderful, terrible way you are twisted, my dear.” He rose to his feet without her help, dusting himself off and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Tell your boyfriend that you’ve done so very well.” He spat again and slunk away to the innards of the ship, belowdecks. A wave of his hand called the mask back to him, and he replaced it as he descended.

 _He’s such a dramatic fucker._ Ben growled in her head, clearly agitated.

Rey snorted, plopping down on her abandoned bench without grace. One of the stormtroopers approached cautiously, the others hanging back but staring at her nervously. The deck was so silent you could hear his armor creaking.

“Are you alright, my Lady?”

“Fine - thank you trooper. Would you keep an eye on the Monk, please? He’s not himself. I would hate for him to be... distressing.” _An asshole._

“Ma’am.” Her audience dissipated, and Rey was alone on the upperdeck.

 _He’s more himself than you think, Rey._ Ben sounded angry; brooding. _Sending him with you was a mistake._

 _Not your mistake, mine for forgetting the creature he really is. I wanted to forget. I wanted to think differently of him and I buried your warning not to trust him._ Rey was seething, the ribbon of her Darkness clouding her thoughts.

 _Don’t feed it, Rey._ Ben said quietly, feeling her anger as his own. _Don’t hold onto that anger. Let it go, learn from it. Keep your eyes on the goal. Don’t do what I did and let it consume you. Now come on, you’ve still got five hours till Hays Minor. Help me make some sense of this report._

Rey closed her eyes and leaned against the bulkhead of the transport, seeing the Supremacy in her mind’s eye but keeping her senses in her current location. Guard up. She settled invisibly into the chair beside Ben, drawing her knees to her chest and reading over the report on his datapad.

Rey ignored the flicker of her own worry over how quickly she had risen to the call of the Dark. She had been threatened, that was all. She had responded appropriately.

Rey sat contentedly through two more reports, as well as interruptions by junior officers, several communications from various fleet generals, and the confirmation that supplies and troopers arrived on Vardos. Hours passed. She flitted between the Supremacy and the transport, but Reth hadn’t come near her again.

She felt the shaking of the transport change timbre, heard the soft voice of the pilot announcing their entrance into atmo.

Her turn was next.

 _Showtime_ , she said somewhat reluctantly. _I suppose I should leave._

Ben looked up from his desk, towards the place where she would have been standing had she actually been there. _I suppose you must. I’ll see you soon._ He paused, as if searching for a word that escaped him. _I’m never far._

 _I know._ Smiling wanly, Rey planted an ethereal kiss on his forehead.

_——-_

Rey strode down the gangway into the spaceport, flanked by the troopers and shadowed ominously by Reth. It was cold, and the skies were darkened with portentous clouds. She had been up for hours, but it was barely midday on the gloomy planet.

Rey wished for some sort of cloak as her breath began to cloud the air before her. She was woefully unprepared for the weather. She was also woefully unprepared for the level of media attention they were receiving. Everywhere she looked, a crowd of cam-droids and reporters of varying species crowded down on them, their voices overlapping into a cacophony of inseparable noises. Their shouted questions rang in her ears, and steadfastly she walked past them, occasionally pushing a cam-droid out of the way or shouldering a reporter out of her personal space.

“What’s going to be done to apprehend the attackers?”

“Was this done by Holdo’s Resistance?”

“Why would they send you?”

“Do you speak for the First Order?”

“Any comment on the nature of your relationship with the Supreme Leader?”

“What of your conflict with General Hux? Any comment on your Force use?”

“Who are you?”

“What is your real name?”

The fine clothes of the reporters and their crews were in marked contrast to the actual people of Hays Minor. Bundled against the cold in rags, the faces of the Haysian people were thin and drawn. Dirtied. A sadness hung over them, and Rey got the distinct sense that it was a permanent feature instead of something exclusively related to the loss of the children.

They kept walking, Rey brushing past the reporters that dogged her persistently. She was becoming irritated - was her refusal to answer them not enough of a deterrent? Rey reminded herself that it was their job to be bothersome - just as it was her job to ignore them.

In the midst of the crowd, Rey saw a little girl partially hidden her parents, round face peeking out from a forest of legs. At barely five years old, her eyes were already deep and dark, seated in a face that had seen too much hardship at such a tender age. Something about them seemed familiar - she felt like she had seen these eyes before, living in another face. The Force gently whispered a name, and Rey stopped in her tracks. A stormtrooper bumped into her back, but she ignored it.

 _Rose_. This was Rose’s home planet. She knew it for a solid, concrete fact - as if her friend herself had uttered it. A snippet of a vision - Rose and another girl, both not much older than the child here, huddled together in the dark. Each held a crescent piece of metal, a sliver of a circle attached to a leather cord. Rey recognized it immediately - Rose’s strange heavy pendant, often fiddled with but never explained.

Rey knelt down, getting eye level with the small girl. The reporters crowded around her again, causing the girl to shrink even farther behind her parents. Turning to the trooper who had bumped into her, Rey motioned for them to give her some space. He complied immediately, the entire platoon pushing back the crowd till there was finally some breathing room.

The girl and her parents remained stock-still, frightened and unsure. Very slowly, Rey sat tailor-fashion on the icy ground, ignoring the cold that seeped through the bottom of her robes. This was more important. The girl hadn’t shrank back any further, but was still looking up at her with fearful eyes. Rey smiled in a reassuring manner, relaxing her arms across her legs, palms up and out. A submissive gesture in any body language.

Gently picking up a small pebble with the Force, Rey floated it in a small circle over her outstretched palm. She added another, and another, till a small galaxy of pebbles rotated in the air. The crowd was silent, the only noise being the whirr and hum of the droids. The little girl crept forward cautiously, deep dark eyes wide with wonder. A moment later, and she sat only a half-meter from Rey, copying her cross-legged pose.

Rey smiled, motioning with her free hand for the girl to open her palm as well. She did hesitantly, and Rey’s heart twinged to see the dirt and scabs which covered the soft skin of her hand. A hand echoing her own. This girl knew what it means to work, to scratch for food and make a life for herself in an environment that was actively against her having either of those things. Rey understood, the sands of Jakku shifting under the weight of her memories.

With barely a thought, she sent the pebble galaxy to the girl in a slow, steady stream. It trickled over to her by degrees, till it rotated over her own hand. The darkened eyes lit up, her scratched hand trembled. She was holding her body tightly, as if any movement would disturb the apparent miracle before her.

The girl smiled, and her whole face was alight with wonder.

Rey smiled too - a true smile. One by one, she dropped the rocks into the girl’s hand as softly as possible. The girl closed her palm around them, her knuckles white as she clutched them to her chest.

“Hello.” Rey said, a small chuckle brightening her words. “What’s your name?”

“Fen.” It was quiet and shy, but she answered readily.

“That’s a lovely name. How old are you, Fen?”

“Four and a half.” She responded quickly, holding out the corresponding number of fingers for emphasis.

“Oh, quite a grown up girl you are! Do you go to school?”

“No. My brother did.”

 _Oh_. Rey quickly abandoned that line of questioning, not wanting to upset the girl when she had just gained her trust. She knew why her parents were at the spaceport, now.

“You remind me very much of a dear friend of mine.” Her dark hair was tangled and dirty but was the same shade as Rose’s. Maker, she even sounded like Rose.

“You remind me of my mum.” Fen said brightly, casting her eyes at the parent in question, who was already pale and blanched even further at the comparison.

Rey laughed brightly, smiling reassuringly up at the hard little woman who still stood above her. “What a lovely thought. I’m quite flattered to be held in such regard by you. Fen, would it be alright if I stood up?”

Fen nodded, standing herself as Rey got back up without any of the proffered assistance from the troopers behind her.

“There. That’s better.” Rey dusted off her skirts and backside awkwardly, causing Fen to giggle in a clear girlish tone. “Now Fen. I understand something awful has happened recently, is that right?”

Fen nodded, some of the light leaving her eyes. Her parents stiffened behind her, clutching at one another as if they expected to be torn apart at any moment. _Maker, what sort of lives are these people leading? “_ Well, that’s why I’ve come. I’m here to help.”

The flashbulbs of cam-driods and the varying pitch of the reporters’ voice blurred in Rey’s ears, her focus turned to directing the distribution of supplies to the rapidly growing crowd of grieving, impoverished families. Grubby hands grabbed at her robes, her arms, and Rey brushed her own hands against as many of theirs as possible. The pain she felt through their eyes, the brief glimpses into their souls, would remain with her for quite some time.


	42. Chapter 42

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

On a quiet afternoon only three days after Hays Minor, Rey was laying on the bed on her belly paging through the latter half of the third huge tome she had brought with her. It was nearly time for dinner, and she was going to suggest to Ben that they have another dueling session sometime soon. The itchiness between her shoulder blades was growing – she needed action other than the somewhat more dignified duties of her fabricated Grey Lady persona.

The reaction to her brief visit to the planet had been overwhelming positive but had generated extra scrutiny that Rey truly did not care for. If she had been a shadow on board when her presence was unknown, she was now a ghost haunting the halls only at night, when her chances of becoming a media sideshow for some crewmember’s extra pocket money were fewer and further between.

There was far less reason for her to leave her rooms, now. Since Reth’s outburst onboard the transport, Rey had not resumed their usual training schedule. He had not bothered to contact her since then, either, and she was content to let him simmer.

Besides – fighting Ben was far more satisfying. Grace and power, aggression and control. It did things to her chest, her stomach - nice things.

Instead of meeting Reth, Rey had buried herself in the Jedi texts, trying not to think of Master Luke too much as she did so. Every day she reached out to him through the Force, and every day her attempts to contact him were met with no reply. The First Order still had no indication as to his location, or Leia’s location, and despite her best intentions Rey’s hope for them was beginning to wane, helplessness clouding her vision.

Shoving thoughts of the aging Jedi Master aside for the moment, Rey flipped the page and resumed reading the section she had located on Force projection for the third time today. It was difficult material, and her unsettled spirit was not assisting in her comprehension.

Rey had no indication that today’s routine would be any different until their usual dinner time came and went with no sign of Ben. Still, Rey tried not to worry too much - things would keep him away from time to time. An hour passed, and she brushed the Bond for assurance but found it shut tight.

Something was not right - on a cellular level, she was discomfited. Unsettled. The urge to pace like a caged animal was almost irresistible. She felt unfocused, jittery - every unexpected sound bringing her to high alert.

Something was _happening_. Something big. Rey closed the book and stared out the window, looking for other ships or perhaps waiting for the startling jerk that came from evasive maneuvers. Only the stars met her gaze, even and bright.

Another hour passed, and Rey at last gave into the urge to pace. She tugged on the Bond every so often, hoping Ben would at least be able to give her a tug back. The useless adrenaline in her veins made her shake with cold, and around hour four she contemplated stepping into the ‘fresher if only to chase some of it away. Instead, she grabbed the thick blanket off her bed and wrapped herself up. She sat on her bench, drawing her knees to her chin, uselessly swiping between pages on her data pad.

Rey was not good at being useless. If there was something wrong, she needed to act. The fight-or-flight mentality of the desert haunted her still.

Instead of running, Rey forced herself to sit and not watch the chrono. She tried to meditate, but anxiety had shot her concentration to pieces. All she could manage was a faint brush of the Force before it seemed to skitter away from her. Her stomach roiled, and food turned to ash in her mouth. Her late dinner sat untouched. She even contemplated messaging Reth but ultimately decided against it.

Surely she was being silly.

Surely things were fine.

At nearly midnight there was a quiet knock on her door. Rey practically exploded in her haste to answer it, sending one of the ancient texts and her blanket flying.

Ben stood in the doorway, leaning heavily against the frame. His helmet, replaced a day after D’Qar with a spare, was off and gripped tightly in his left hand, his gloves removed and sitting inside it. His normally pallid complexion was bordering on sickly, and Rey couldn’t remember a time when his shielding had been drawn tighter.

“We need to talk.” His voice was hoarse, as if he had been screaming for hours, his eyes bloodshot and hollow. _Fuck. Something is very wrong._

Rey pointed inside her room, but Ben shook his head and stumbled down the hallway toward his. Before shutting her door, Rey snatched the bottle of Whyren off the dresser. She flew down the hallway after Ben, slipping his free arm around her shoulders and coming alongside him in an attempt to support him. He leaned on her gratefully, which only increased Rey’s anxiety.

Rey had passed off the bottle of whiskey immediately upon setting foot in Ben’s room, and he accepted it gratefully. He stood still, staring at what seemed to be nothing as he held the bottle down by his side in parallel to his helmet. Shoulders heaved for a moment, chest rising and falling in uncontrolled breaths as he struggled to master himself. A growl of rage, and Ben cast his helmet angrily into the far corner where it slammed into the wall and rolled away to bump against his desk.

Rey jumped at the noise and the violence but opted to remain silent. She took a seat on the end of the bed and waited for Ben to be ready to talk. She could wait. Rey was very good at waiting.

As the man she loved seethed in anger before her, Rey kept her side of the Bond open, trying to send him reassurance through her own presence. She wasn’t sure if he could even feel it - she didn’t dare try to brush his mind with hers. She would give him time. The Force purred, settling in between her shoulder blades like a talisman. It agreed with her course of action. It was content.

Rey wished that _she_ was. Her hands shook, and she fiddled with the rough hem of her grey overcoat for lack of anything better to do.

A distracted wave of Ben’s hand summoned two drinking glasses from the small cabinet, into which he poured out two sizable drinks. The whiskey bottle was now less than half full. After passing her a tumbler, he downed his portion in one swallow and poured himself a fresh one, swishing the amber liquid in the glass and staring at it pensively. He refused to sit down, instead wearing a path along the far wall.

Still Rey sat in silence, sensing that Ben would speak only when he was ready. The tension in the room was nearly palpable, and she took a small sip of her drink to steady her own nerves. The fire of it burned down to her toes, causing her to realize with a frown that her feet were still bare. She tucked them carefully up underneath her robes, resettling herself on the edge of the bed as she continued to wait patiently.

Ben took a drink from his second glass, setting it down on the nightstand with a heavy thump. He sat down carefully at head of the bed, on a diagonal from Rey. She twisted to be able to see him, pulling herself more fully onto the bed. The inane thought that one of them really needed a sitting area so they could stop using their beds as couches flittered through her mind, and Rey barely resisted the urge to laugh nervously at herself.

At length, a shaky sigh freed itself from Ben’s chest, and he bowed his head into his hands. “It’s my mother.” He said quietly, and Rey’s blood froze to ice in her veins. The curious blankness that she had been sensing around been Leia’s Force connection haunted her, and suddenly she understood.

“Things with the Resistance are far worse than we have guessed. Than our recon was telling us.” Ben began quietly, as he picked up the glass and eyed the liquid inside again. “Do you recall ever hearing about a Saw Gerrera?”

Rey shook her head. The name was unfamiliar to her.

“He was an extremist back when the Resistance was called the Rebellion, some thirty-odd years ago. Before the Empire fell. He was a commander during the Clone Wars. His methods were more... visceral in nature than the majority of the Rebellion’s tactics. Some called him a terrorist, others a patriot. He was killed on Jedha when Jedha City was destroyed. Essentially this is what we now know Admiral Holdo has devolved into. A terrorist. There was another wave of attacks using that weapon – and we still have no message from the Resistance, nothing to explain _why_. Her methods are becoming more and more ruthless by the hour, and now that the Resistance has split...” Ben trailed off, gesturing into the air. “... there is no one left willing to balance her.”

“What’s happened?” Panic crept into Rey’s voice, though she didn’t mean for it to tremble the way it did.

“Luke and... my mother... went with Holdo at her insistence for leaving you alive, as Luke said. What Luke didn’t tell you was that as part of the deal, my mother would stand trial for obstructing justice. _My_ justice. She kept the fact that Kylo Ren was her son from the entirety of the Resistance, and the faction that she ended up with was out for blood. This was the punishment we heard whispers of a few weeks ago. They kept it well under wraps till now.”

“Oh Maker, no.”

Ben swallowed hard, gripping the glass with white-knuckled hands. “Today - today they finally released the information on the holonet that Kylo Ren and Ben Solo are one and the same. The Supreme Leader, the fallen son of the Rebellion’s favorite daughter. Then extracted their justice for my mother’s supposed lies.” He finished the liquid inside with another swallow and looked as if he was contemplating pouring another one.

“She’s gone, Rey. She’s fucking gone, and I never got - I never will - Maker, Rey, my _mother_. And I had to stand on that _fucking_ bridge, all day and all night, helpless, while report after report rolled in about the proceedings from our sources. And I couldn’t stop it. Even if I ordered our entire fleet there immediately, we are so far across the galaxy from where they are... I couldn’t. I couldn’t even show remorse. I’m a monster, remember? I killed my own father. Why should my mother’s death affect me? I couldn’t save her. I failed.”

Rey slid off the bed and crossed to the other side of the room, setting her tumbler on the nightstand and kneeling on the floor before him. “You couldn’t stop it, Ben.”

Every fiber of Rey’s being screamed in agony. Leia, who had only ever been kind to her. Who had given her a mother’s love when she had known none. Whose brashness and strength had kept the Resistance alive on more than one occasion. Rey was supposed to bring her son back to her. Leia couldn’t leave before that happened. It wasn’t fair.

Ben looked at her, brokenness radiating from him. Unshed tears wavered in the corners of his eyes, his hands shaking as they gripped the empty glass. Rey threw her arms around him, helpless to do anything else. His tumbler fell quietly to the floor as he returned her embrace, burying his face in her hair. Rey tightened her arms around his chest, and Ben pulled her from the floor onto his lap, maneuvering her feet to dangle on the bed as he rested her body on his legs. He pressed her to his chest, fingers digging almost painfully into her back. Rey didn’t care. She buried her face into the black fabric of his surcoat, listening to the frantic thumping of his heart.

Through the Bond, all Rey could hear was the small voice of a child, crying for his mother over and over again. And oh, how she understood. Her own tears squeezed out from under her eyelids, making their slow way down her face.

A heartbeat, a breath - and a thought appeared, biting in the corner of her mind. Her eyes flew open and she stiffened in surprise. Of course. There was something they could try. She knew what she had to do.

“Ben - meditate with me.” She said urgently, somewhat muffled by his surcoat.

A quiet sniffle, and he lifted his cheek from where it rested against the top of her head. “... what?”

“Just - I have an idea. Trust me.”

“I don’t think I can do it, Rey. I haven’t got the focus.”

“I do. Use our Bond. I’ll help you.”

He grunted hesitantly, but she felt his breathing slow. Rey fell easily into her meditation, the Force open and welcoming, pulling her in. She sensed Ben at the small door in her mind, and she ran to it.

He looked so young. His appearance caused her to pause for a moment, but she realized that she was probably looking at the truest form of Ben Solo. The boy before her couldn’t be much older than fifteen, appearing closer to her twenty years than his thirty-one. Gangly legs, and not quite the full height of his adulthood. A small padawan’s braid hung down by his left ear, a symbol of another life tugging on her soul. He was still a boy who wanted his mother and believed in redemption, not the man who knew he had destroyed his family and felt there was no going back. This was the boy who had fallen, Ben before he had split in two.

Despite all that she wanted to say to the boy, Rey kept on course. She couldn’t turn back time and save him from his hurts, no matter how badly she wanted to. But - if she was quick, perhaps she could spare Ben from another stain on his soul.

 _Master Luke and your mother have both told me that you can sense the passing of someone close to you through the Force, especially if they are Force sensitive themselves. I haven’t felt the faintest flicker from your mother. I think... there may be a chance she’s still alive. And I have an idea as to how we can talk to her._ She smiled as warmly as she could manage and took him by the hand. _Trust me, Ben._

 _I do._ His dark eyes were full of sadness and a tiny flicker of hope. It was strange to see his eyes in the face of a young man on the barest cusp of adulthood. She missed his age lines, his scars.

With her fingers laced with Ben’s she began to feel for Leia’s Force. She gently tugged on Ben’s power, asking him to join with her. He did without hesitation, adding his desire and intrinsic Force to her own. A muddled charcoal Darkness next to her own ashen Light.

The river deepened, and Rey felt like she was truly seeing for the first time in a long time. Together, they found Leia easily - she was still alive, even if her Force connection was dimmed.

Thinking of the ancient words on the brittle page she had read only hours ago, Rey stretched out her palm, testing the waters of the Force for something she still didn’t truly understand. _All things are as dust, all things run a circle. Matter and Force between each other, all things connected by the brevity of their breaths._

The scales fell from her eyes, and for the first time Rey saw, rather than simply sensed, the lines of Force than ran between her and Leia. They were strong and solid, and she grabbed for one. She felt it in the palm of her hand and gave it a tug. It shimmered and shook, lighting a winding path between her outstretched hand and the tiny flame of Leia.

She could _follow_ this. Reth had been right. The texts had been right.

Hope buoyed Rey forward, dragging Ben along behind her. She _ran_ to Leia, barreling through the lightyears with Ben’s power still twined with her own. It would work. It had to. How else would a Force projection work?

They arrived without any fanfare whatsoever in a small, dank cell. Water dropped from somewhere above them, a hollow splash collecting in a puddle. It smelled of mold and dust. Of death. Rey crinkled her nose in disgust and felt the same from Ben.

But General Organa was staring straight at them, the most luminous smile splitting her waxen face. “Ben.” Her once lovely robes were torn and dirty, her hair disheveled in a way Rey had never seen it before. But her brown eyes were clear, and bright with happiness and peace.

Rey turned to look at her bondmate, once more the owner of the twisted mass of facial scars denoting that he was _her_ Ben. He was staring at his mother with his mouth slightly open, the dried tracks of his tears invisible in the dim light. “... Mom.” His voice was a harsh whisper, full of disbelief.

“My boy. I’m so sorry. I failed you.”

“No, Mom, stop -” Pleading. Rey could feel his desire to run to her, but fear held him fast.

“No, right now you listen to _me_ , Ben Solo.” Leia said sternly, raising a finger to her son. Maker, but she was good at that. Rey felt herself snap to attention despite not being the recipient of Leia’s motherly scolding.

“Listen to me, my beloved son. Please. I did fail you. We all did. You are the most important thing in my life... and I should have treated you that way. I never meant to hurt you. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish I could turn back time, knowing what I do now, and keep you from all of this.” The dam broke, and quiet tears rolled down Leia’s pallid face. “We should have sensed - _him_ \- in you. Instead of being frightened by your power and your Darkness we should have tried harder. We could have saved you, my boy, and we didn’t. And I will take that shame and regret with me to my grave. Which appears to be closer than I had thought.” Leia smiled self-deprecatingly, casting a hand around her cell walls.

“Mom…”

But Leia wasn’t letting her son get a word in edgewise. She had rehearsed this speech a thousand times in her mind, and she was going to say it. “Ben. It’s _true_. You know it is.”

This time, Ben was silent. Rey squeezed his hand lightly, which was still twined in hers. He squeezed it back.

“But look at you, my darling.” A tear rolled down her face afresh, and she raised a dirty hand to brush it away. “Just look at you. I can see your Light. That wonderful band of Light, shot through with Darkness. The little boy I remember so well. I could Sense you, you know. Far before I _ever_ saw your face.” Leia’s voice choked, and she looked away as emotion gripped her.

“Mom...” Ben trailed off, either unwilling or unable to say what he was thinking.

Leia plunged on. “If I had it to do again, son, I would choose you over the galaxy every time. I would let them all burn. If it had kept that monster from getting his claws into you, it would have been worth it. Do you hear me? I was _wrong_. Please Ben. Please understand me.”

Ben nodded, his pulse a thready flutter under Rey’s fingers. “Yes. I understand.”

Leia wiped her eyes and cleared her throat, trying to collect herself. They stood in silence, the only noise the steady droplets of water into some muddy puddle.

“Is Rey with you? I can’t see her. Only you.”

“I’m here, Leia.” But it appeared that Leia couldn’t hear her, either. Despite this, Rey felt a certain peace. If anyone was going to get a chance to say goodbye, it should be Ben.

When Leia remained silent, Ben responded quietly “She’s right here. She brought me... she figured out how.” There was a pride in those words that warmed Rey to her core despite the desperate situation they were in.

“Can she hear me?”

“Yes.”

Leia looked somewhere below Ben’s left shoulder, almost directly at Rey’s invisible figure. “Then thank you, Rey. A thousand times. This old woman will go to her grave content. Take care of him. Of _both_ of them. I’ve seen it, you know. What you two do. Before the Force left me, I saw you both.”

“Is that what happened?” Ben said, anger and urgency lacing his tone. “How?”

“Your Uncle. They think they have him over a barrel,” Leia chuckled, “they think he is going to do whatever they say, because they continue to threaten Rey’s life. They believe that Luke thinks she’s the only person standing between the galaxy and destruction. But that’s not true at all. And Rey’s with you, isn’t she? She’s so far beyond their reach, they’ll never find her again.” She laughed openly then, which dissolved into a wheezing cough. “And Luke is far smarter than they give him credit for. He dampened my Force - he didn’t take it. And I _told_ him to comply with their command _._ There is no stain on his soul - not because of anything he did to me, at least. But my time is over, and I’m ready. I’ve seen how this all ends, and I have no further place in this story. I’m going to see your father again.” She smiled a true smile. Leia, Princess of a planet of dust, was calm and ready.

Ben stepped toward his mother, hesitant and scared, as if she would disappear when he moved. When she stayed put, he crossed the final steps to her with confidence, dragging Rey along behind him. Ben fell to his knees, dropping Rey’s hand as he embraced his mother as a small child would. Rey quickly moved her hand to his back, frightened that this would only continue to work if they kept in contact.

“My boy.” Leia smoothed a hand over Ben’s black hair, the way a mother comforts her child no matter their age or circumstance. Her hands came to rest on his broad shoulders, and Leia tilted her head to the ceiling. Unshed tears glittered in her eyes, her mouth smashed into a thin line as she controlled her emotions.

Rey hesitantly reached out to touch Leia’s shoulder herself, but her hand went right through her, just as it had Master Luke. Rey’s family was literally slipping through her fingers once again. It was only then that she allowed her own tears to fall, remembering the feeling of Leia’s fingers in her hair as she had braided it. Of the hot teardrop on her shoulder as Leia had grieved her son. The many times Leia has found her alone and afraid, sitting with her in silence till she was ready to talk. The confidence the older woman had held in her, the scavenger girl in rags. The only mother figure Rey had ever truly known.

Rey’s heart ached, and then burned in anger. They were taking away her mother again. They were taking _Ben’s_ mother. They would pay. And this loss would not be in vain.

“Mom, I was wrong. I did unspeakable things. Dad. About - everything. I never meant... I never wanted...” A hoarse whisper, creaking from a chest where a broken heart was struggling to beat. Ben’s voice was choked with tears, and Leia tightened her hold on her son. Rey wound her fingers into the fabric of Ben’s cloak, unable to do anything else.

“I know.” Leia’s murmur was a benediction, an absolution. “I love you, Ben.”

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Leia stiffened. “I don’t think they will be able to see you, my boy, but it’s time for you both to leave all the same.” She released Ben from her embrace, gently pulling him to his feet. Rey rose with him, sliding her hand from the center of his back to his waist and standing as close to his side as she could. He trembled.

“Wait... please.”

Leia shook her head. “Nothing to be done, Ben. Remember who you are. In _here_.” She lightly tapped his chest, just about where her head reached on him. Ben Solo dwarfed his mother, and it seemed even more apparent now. “I’ve seen how this ends. What you and Rey are capable of together. There is always hope.”

“I’ll stop this. We can stop it, can’t we Rey? We can.” Ben’s adrenaline was pouring into Rey, both of them now itching for a fight. Her fingers twitched for a lightsaber that wasn’t there.

Leia shook her head. “You can’t. There’s nothing to be done. Let me go, son.”

“I won’t leave you.” The unconscious echo of Luke’s words to his dying father resounded in Rey’s bones, the tiniest snippet of a vision flickering in her mind. Luke in black, kneeling before Vader’s empty armor with tears hanging unshed in his eyes. The dark mirror - another child losing their parent to a willing sacrifice.

“But you must. I won’t let you stay.” Leia’s voice was soft, comforting her son one final time.

“What am I supposed to do?”

The raw pain and _youth_ in Ben’s tone broke the last of Rey’s restraint. The Resistance would _pay_. The river of Darkness inside her chuckled and uncoiled itself, gathering in her chest and begging to be used. Rey shoved it away, holding ever tighter to Ben’s waist.

“Everything you can. It’s about a balance, Ben. It all is. The Empire, the Republic - both of them are dead, and for a good reason. Don’t try to save them. You and Rey will find a new way. Take care of her, Ben. You must both take care of each other.”

The footsteps stalled outside the door, and the jangle of keys told them time was up.

Leia placed her hand on her son’s chest, looking up at his scarred face and pouring out all the love in her heart. “There is never enough time to do or say everything we could wish, Ben. The only thing to be done is to try and accomplish as much as you can with the time you have. Remember, my son - time is short, and suddenly you are a memory.” She lifted her hand, smiling at her son. Rey and Ben were plunged into blackness as the door to her cell opened wide.


	43. Chapter 43

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Kylo came back to awareness of his own body with a jolt, nearly dropping Rey to the floor. He tightened his arms around her just in time for her own startled jerk to pitch her forward. Her heartbeat was a wild staccato rhythm, pounding and leaping against his chest, and he knew his own matched it. Her eyes were anywhere but on his.

They sat in silence for several heartbeats, waiting for a feeling they both knew was coming. Six heartbeats. Ten. Twenty. And then - there it was.

A crushing sense of _loss_. A rend in the fabric of the universe. The passing of Leia Organa.

Rey seemed to wilt in his arms, the breath leaving her body in a shuddering gasp. She buried her face even further into his chest, her fists balling in the thick material. He felt her indescribable loss mingle with his own till the feeling nearly crushed him. A strangled cry broke from her chest, though he could tell she was doing everything in her power to hold herself together. To be strong.

Kylo held tightly onto her Light, feeling the Darkness inside him rage and strain against the confines of his control. _His mother was gone_. He was going to _break_ something. But he didn’t _want_ to.

It would be so easy. To grab his lightsaber, to slash and hack the walls. To march onto the bridge and order a salt-the-earth plan to rain destruction on the entire Resistance, his uncle’s presence and the lives of innocents in their path no longer any form of a deterrent. The burn and pillage heedless of how it appeared to the galaxy they were trying to reform. To rage like a rabid animal, to lose control of himself and let the Darkness rise till it consumed him.

But he had a choice, and he could choose not to give in. He felt the ghost of his mother’s hand on his chest, reminding him. The memory of Rey’s mind brushing his, even as she screamed in pain under Snoke’s torture, reminding him.

The power inside him threatened to choke the very breath from his lungs, and he burned in agony. His hands shook, his saber rattled in its place on his nightstand. He didn’t want it. He wasn’t going to call it. He grit his teeth. He wasn’t going to feed the Dark anymore.

He wouldn’t be that man anymore. The Dark obeyed him, not the other way around. It served _him_.

So deep was his concentration that he failed to notice Rey staring up at him, concern writ large on her pale face. He couldn’t sense her in the Bond as she tried to reach for him, the maelstrom of Darkness he was suppressing consuming all other thoughts. Loss and rage ate away at his control - a burning, white-hot anger that ripped at his insides till everything that was Kylo Ren was engulfed in wildfire. His hatred for that purple-haired bitch writhed in him, spinning up the fires of his rage till thinking of anything else was nearly impossible. She had tried to take Rey. She had tried to take Chewbacca.

She had taken his mother.

His saber shook on the nightstand, inching forward toward him. He didn’t want it. He wouldn’t call it. He wasn’t going to destroy the walls, his room. He wasn’t going to give into his basest self and hurt the girl in front of him who _trusted_ him.

He was different now.

Through the inferno, he felt Rey’s hands in his hair, on his neck, down his back, bracing his shoulders. Over his biceps. Down his forearms, to his shaking hands. She gripped them tightly in hers, running her thumbs over their backs in a small, irregular motions. He tried to buck her off - her touch was a dangerous thing when the threads of his control were this thin. But she was not dissuaded. Her forehead was resting against his, her eyes closed. She had knelt on the floor before him as he cowered on the edge of the bed.

And then, Kylo felt her again - her warm presence in the Bond. Hope and acceptance. Forgiveness and love. The call to the Light. And this time, he ran to it. _My choice. Mine. No one else’s._ Not his parent’s path for him, nor Uncle Luke’s. Not Snoke or the First Order. His own.

With _her_. As long as she would have him.

He opened his eyes, watching Rey as she murmured something practically unintelligible, so soft it was nearly beyond his ability to hear. Tears continued to sneak out from behind her closed eyes, joining the stains that already ran down her cheeks. Periodically she tightened her grip on his hands, a squeeze which he returned in kind.

Battered back by Rey and her Light, the Darkness receded bit by bit. It curled in disappointment back to its place in his belly, letting the fire ebb from his limbs. His hands slowly stopped their shaking, and Kylo exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. It had passed. He was free.

Rey felt it too, opening her eyes and pulling back to look at him. The starlight from his small window fell on her face, lending her skin an ethereal glow. It had to be a trick of the light - but there was a halo around her. His good angel.

She was radiant.

He wanted to kiss her - and so he did. Softly this time, the passion that had fueled them before giving way to an embrace one of mutual understanding, of comfort. Rey returned his kiss willingly, releasing her grip on one of his hands to run her hand along his scarred face. Almost without thinking, Kylo freed her hair from the confines of the inelegant single bun she had taken to wearing it in. It looked much better around her shoulders, framing her features.

The good angel he never deserved.

Kylo broke their kiss, rising to his feet unsteadily and pulling Rey along with him. She refused to lose her grip on his hand, and he wasn’t about to push her away. Her small frame leaned against, and he felt the sharp stab of her sorrow through the Bond. He returned his hand to the back of her head, cradling it against his chest as his other rested on her back, fingers splayed. Wiry arms wound around his waist in response.

“Are you alright?” Rey’s voice was a hushed whisper.

An exhalation. “No. But we have work to do. Much has changed - not just...” Kylo trailed off, looking away from her earnest eyes. “It’s time. The galaxy knows my name. My mother is... gone. If we were waiting for an opportunity... this is it.” He reluctantly loosened his embrace, moving away to wipe his face with the back of his hand. It was showtime. No weakness.

Rey nodded, squaring her shoulders and tossing her head as if preparing for a battle. Maybe she was. “I know.”

“I need to be on the bridge. I need you with me. It’s time. There’s no more hiding in the shadows for us. Show the Resistance your face, my face – plaster them across the galaxy. They have not cowed us. They will _never_ reach you. It’s time for the First Order to rise.”

Ben Solo raised his head from beneath the waves of Styx, taking his first gasping breath of air.

Rey nodded. “It’s time. Leia’s... passing... is going to be a polarizing event for the entire galaxy. She is... was... much beloved. It was shortsighted of Holdo. She’s made a large number of enemies. In fact, I wouldn’t doubt if she’s completely alienated herself and the Resistance.” Kylo could feel how discomfited Rey was discussing his mother in the past tense, but he had already shoved his pain back into the box where he kept his uncomfortable truths. He’d have to deal with it later. But not now.

He was the Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren. He was Ben Solo, son of the Rebellion. There was a balance. He could do this. He had to do this.

Out of reflex, he reached for his helmet, but stopped himself at the last moment. There was no need for such pretense anymore. All the systems knew his name. However, he took the gloves. Rey gave his arm a steadying squeeze, gently piloting him out the door and towards the turbolift.

They had almost made it to the elevator when she stopped as if shocked, shaking her head.

“One second. I’ll be right back.” She darted into her room and shut the door carefully behind her.

When Rey emerged, she was dressed in the outer charcoal grey robe that had been worn on Hays Minor, instead of just the inner robe that she had been wearing. Bare feet had been clad in his old boots, incongruous with the rest of her clothes but hardly noticeable under the sweep of her long skirts. The slight wave of her brunette hair was loose and unrestrained, settling around her shoulders in a way Kylo especially liked. The tear stains had been washed from her face, with the only indication that something had been amiss was the redness that remained in her eyes and around her nose.

She was beautiful. Soft and gentle but shot through with steel.

Kylo said nothing but bookmarked his train of thought for later. Rey-from-Nowhere was a scavenger in rags no more.

He reached for her hand, and Rey took it without hesitation, her small, rough fingers winding in between his. He was reminded of another ride in a lift very much like this one, where the look in her hazel eyes had finally burned away the last of his indecision. The steel courage that had been lent to him from her determination and faith in his ability to _choose_. That ride had lead him to killing Snoke. To starting his atonement.

And now they were here, with Rey again beside him; this time as the Hand of the Knights of Ren. The good angel of the Supreme Leader of First Order. She was the face the holonet would want to see as the Order tightened their grip, started their reforms. Rey was soft and kind, where he was harsh and frightening.

The angel and the monster.

She was the balance in his darkness, and more than anything else, Rey was the key to winning the systems over to their side. He hoped she was ready.

He hoped they both were.

They stood in the lift silently, fingers still intertwined as the door opened to the bridge. The normally quiet atmosphere was still in high alert, voices clamoring from all corners with new information as to the implosion of the Resistance with the murder of its Matriarch. The holoconference screens were lit, with every General in the fleet in attendance and all of them talking at once. It was barely orchestrated chaos.

This certainly was one way to make an entrance.

Ben opened the Bond fully, needing to feel her completely beside him. It was generally enough for them to just have a sense of the other’s well-being, the occasional flicker of a strongly held emotion and the immediate ability to send a message all they required when in such proximity to one another, with the new depth of their connection seeming more an organic part of them than ever before. But now - he needed to know that she felt him, that she understood what he was trying to do.

Kylo sent Rey waves of confidence and reassurance. _Follow my lead. Stay quiet. You’ll be fine._

 _I know._ Maker, he could feel her trembling.

_You can do this. You’ve been through worse than this._

_I think that largely remains to be seen._ A small flicker of amusement, quickly drowned by fear and battered back by determination.

Kylo stepped out of the lift bay, head held high. He had almost forgotten that he was barefaced before his crew and many of the generals for the first time - and even those who may have seen him previously had not seen his new scars. But there was no shame there. His scars were won in the defeat of Snoke, of securing his position as Supreme Leader and protecting the woman who loves him. Let them stare.

He walked over to Hux confidently, waiting for the ginger haired man to turn and face him. Hux had his back to the lift, and was conversing heatedly with General Dren, commander of the Imperius.

“General, we make no further move against the Resistance till the Supreme Leader has given his command. You forget your place.” The tall redhead was practically snarling, the lines of his shoulders held taught. He turned to face another figure, a strict-looking woman who looked down her nose at him imperiously. “And as for you, General Aneda, you hold your tongue. We are more than our bloodline.”

“You would say that, Armitage, given your own sordid past.”

 _Oh boy_. Bringing up Hux’s bastard status was a surefire way to send the man on a rage bender he wasn’t coming back from anytime soon. But - Kylo sensed an opportunity here. Tightening his fingers, he reached across the lightyears to choke the woman.

“General Aneda. I wouldn’t have thought I needed to remind my own generals that infighting is what lead to the situation the Resistance is currently in. While their misfortune is good news for us, we should take care not to suffer their same fate.” Every head on the bridge and the holo swiveled to look at him at once, unused to his voice without the vocorder. Naked shock was writ on the face of his generals, and that same emotion mixed with fear echoed from the junior officers around him.

Kylo watched as the woman’s face turned an appealing shade of purple, and he contemplated finishing the job just to prove a point. He never liked her, anyways. Aneda clawed at her throat, fear tightening the lines of her face as much as the lack of oxygen did. With a sigh, he released his hold on her windpipe. He was no Vader.

There was no noise on the formerly chaotic bridge, aside from the coughing of the unfortunate general. All eyes on him.

“I think I’ve proved my point. You won’t be so lucky next time, Aneda. You had better learn to control your tongue. All of you. This petty infighting is going to cease. We’re the most powerful force in the galaxy, and now nothing opposes us. Start. Acting. Like it.”

Kylo turned to Hux, hoping that his display had inspired something in the perpetual thorn in his side. It had been for his benefit, after all. His second was staring at him openly, completely baffled, jaw slacked in surprise. When he noticed the Supreme Leader’s eyes on him, he stiffened and met his gaze.

“What are your orders, Supreme Leader?” For the first time in a long time, there was no hidden malice in his tone. Ben recalled their conversation a few days ago, and felt another surge of confidence run through his veins. It was time.

“Begin contacting our senators, and those... sympathetic to us. It’s time the First Order openly assumes the power in the galaxy. We’ve been running in the shadows for too long. I need information on how the systems are reacting to Holdo’s decision. Who she has managed to alienate by murdering my mother.” _May as well own it._ A twinge of pain drifted through the Bond, and his own sadness echoed it.

Kylo hadn’t thought the silence could deepen, but it had. He could hear the air whooshing through the air vents. Tombs were louder than this.

“Coruscant is in turmoil.” A small voice came from below him, a junior officer reading a report from the subnet. “They are not reacting well to the loss. The prevailing opinion appears to be calling for Holdo’s capture and trial. The word terrorist is being used.”

“Thank you, Officer Wrex. Continue.” Kylo strode back over to Rey, who had at this point been joined by the Monk. Dressed in his full Knight garb, a specter of death hovered in the corner. He had stood a slight pace back from Rey, clearly signaling her position as important to anyone who cared to look. So far, everyone had kept their eyes on him. Not anymore.

“We’re getting similar reports across other systems. No major government is reacting in support of Holdo - in fact some who have previously supported the Resistance have retracted their support. Many mourn Senator Organa.”

Kylo reached his gloved hand to Rey, palm up, beckoning her to take it. Her eyes were wide, the lines of her body straight with tension. All eyes were on her now, on the unmasked Supreme Leader who was reaching for the hand of a girl dressed in grey, the mysterious Grey Lady the holonet was slavering over. _Don’t be afraid. Join me. Help me bring a new order to this galaxy. Please._

 _I’m nothing. I can’t do this._ Doubt. Panic.

 _Not to me._ And somehow, he managed to do it. He sent her his love, his affection, his trust and desire for her. The memories of the cracks she had already begun to seal up, their edges gilded in golden Light. Emotions that had been shut away from him for so long but awakened again by her. He locked his eyes on hers, begging her to understand. If she wasn’t with him, he would fail.

Rey reached forward, her hand trembling nearly imperceptibly but her heart full of trust. Her hand rested in his gloved palm. He tightened his fingers around hers, drawing her closer to him till she stood beside him on the bridge, a few feet from Hux.

For the third time, the bridge plunged itself into silence. Rey’s grey robes were a stark contrast to the sea of black uniforms, the shiny black floors and walls. She stood silently next him, her hand not leaving his as he turned to face Hux and his generals again.

“All of you. Contact our supporters. I expect a full report within six hours. I want to a timetable for our assumption of power. We are the only power left in this galaxy. Find out what systems are going to continue to hold out. Hux - locate Holdo, if we haven’t already done so. We will be the ones to bring the galaxy the justice it’s calling for, remove the threat of this terrorist. I’m tired of being two steps behind this rat. Make it happen.”

The bridge slowly resumed its natural state of tense industry, the holoscreens flicking off one by one as Kylo’s generals went to their tasks.

Kylo and Rey stood shoulder to shoulder, silhouetted against the backdrop of stars.


	44. Chapter 44

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image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

A week; an entire week into this new regime, seven full and agonizing days passed her by before Rey had enough time to herself – not to mention energy to spare – before she was even able to attempt to collect her scattered thoughts. It was inevitable that this would come in the small hours of the morning, when she should be catching up on much-needed sleep.

Rey was worn to the bone with the events of the past week.

Every breath had been expended in efforts of convincing Hux that their plans for change weren’t suicide, placating generals with ruffled feathers, senators who needed a certain amount of ego stroking before they’d formally sign away their loyalty. Every inhalation had been full of the shock of the media, the trepidation from Tak and the other Knights, the nebulous mistrust that now existed between herself and Reth after Hays Minor.

But every exhalation had been in the arms of the former Jedi Killer, their bodies tangled together in exhausted slumber in her starlight-flooded room aboard the Supremacy.

And tonight, she lay awake, fatigue refusing to claim her as unease settled in her stomach again. Rey watched the steady swaying of the plants hanging from the ceiling, wondering how in the world Holdo was continuing to evade the eyes of the entire galaxy. Nearly every planetary system had feelers out, the First Order leaving no stone undisturbed.

_Home-grown terrorist murders founding daughter of the New Republic._

_A galaxy in mourning: A reflection on the life and times of Senator Leia Organa._

_The Grey Lady makes another surprise appearance on the arm of the Supreme Leader._

_Senator Organa’s wayward son seen exiting the old Senate chamber on Coruscant scant hours before the formal dissolution of the New Republic._

_Ben Solo, Kylo Ren – who is the Supreme Leader, really?_

_The New Order – What Should the Galaxy Expect?_

_Unease in the Outer Rim grows as support for the extremist Resistance wanes in the Core worlds._

_Senator Leia Organa’s son – friend or foe to the former Republic?_

Rey screwed her eyes shut, trying to erase the holonet bylines as they scrolled through her memories. Leia had been weighing heavily on her mind all day, and Rey was having a hard time shutting her recollections of Ben’s mother safely away tonight. She suspected the memorial service they were officiating tomorrow had something to do with it.

As most of the ship slept the Supremacy was slipping into orbit around Chandrila, where the Solos had resided when Ben was born. There was no body to lay to rest, but the galaxy ached for two things: closure, and vengeance. They could provide one while working on attaining the other.

A park had been hastily renamed in the former Senator’s honor, with an obelisk erected in a quiet corner bearing her name. It seemed fitting – Leia would not have wanted anything ostentatious, but this callback to her family home, in a green space… Rey could only hope she would approve. Ben seemed to be at a loss, leaving most of the arrangements to her and retreating into himself when his mother was mentioned. She understood.

She wondered how he was going to handle setting foot on his homeworld for the first time in nearly twenty years. It was sure not to be a solitary experience. It seemed like every being in the galaxy wanted to be on hand to pay their respects to the former Senator.

It would likely be a very good place for the Resistance to strike.

Her unquiet thoughts continued to roil, and Rey puffed out an anxious breath. A week or two ago, she would have simply rolled out from under the covers and read till sleep claimed her, but now she was trapped in bed by a large arm and half a torso.

Not that she truly minded – she much preferred to sleeping half-pinned under Ben Solo’s naked body than sleeping alone. But right now, she could really use a glass of water and a boring book. Instead, she had black hair tickling her chin and Ben’s whuffling breaths ghosting across her chest.

Despite herself, she smiled. Their link remained open, and for the first time in the last week Ben’s dreams were blank and calm, exhaustion having removed the nightmares from his head instead of Rey herself. A useful thing, Force Bonds were; in more ways than one. Right now, she wished that ability ran both ways - she would dearly love to put herself to sleep with a kind thought and a gentle push.

Since that wasn’t an option for her, Rey instead called upon the Force. Perhaps meditation would lead her to sleep instead of more regrets. It seemed she was incapable of resting in the Force anymore without feeling the overwhelming desire to call for Luke, even though she was sure he would never hear her voice. Something was blocking her – be it Luke himself, or an external force – and she could not get past it through any technique she had tried. And oh, had she tried – desperately, despairingly - using the same method that had finally broken through to Leia after all this time.

But she hadn’t tried in two days. Perhaps tonight was different.

She waded into the river of pure Force, feeling the ebb and flow of the galaxy around her as if she was merely a leaf on the rushing waters. The Force welcomed her, as it always did, settling around her ankles like a contented cat. Rey sank herself into the waters, sitting with her knees drawn to her chin in a defensive posture. The universe crashed over her in waves, and Rey listened with half an ear.

The impulse to call for Master Luke licked at her ankle, and she pushed it away for a moment. She had so little time to be still, to be herself. She needed to be Rey from Nowhere for a moment; not the Hand or the Grey Lady, whoever those women were.

Rey was losing herself to her masks, and it discomfited her more than she wanted to let on.

After the third such push, Rey gave in to the Force’s direction and sought out Luke’s band of darkness. She saw him easily – it was confirmation that Holdo’s current hideout did not have the same strange Force-dampening abilities they had witnessed in the cave on Ord Mantell. But tonight, Rey found she did not have the mental fortitude to scream across the galaxy in the hopes Luke would hear her, to pull on the web of the Force hoping the path to him would illuminate.

Instead, she tugged her knees closer to her chest, and spoke to him as quietly as she once had around a crackling fire, the night sky full of stars above their heads.

_Master Luke – it’s been a while. Things are so much different now. I hardly recognize myself anymore – I think I’d give you quite a start. I feel like my shoulders look ridiculous in the fancy clothes J2 keeps giving me. Oh, and I’ve finally learned some table manners, and did you know there’s often more than one fork at a state dinner? I didn’t, till last night. Sometimes I think Ben forgets I was a half-wild thing alone in the sand for most of my life. I know Hux has no idea._

_Hux – he’s an interesting one. I can’t quite suss him out – ostensibly, he’s on our side against the stick-in-the-mud generals wanting the status quo, but I feel like he’s holding something back. And he looks at me like he knows something, but maybe it’s just the cutthroat nature of the First Order. You’d think I’d understand that, but perhaps it doesn’t seem necessary when we’re all not actively starving. If portions were on the line – well, every man for himself, I suppose._

_I’ve got a new lightsaber now – well, a saber-staff really. I have you to thank for that, because I sort of stole the kyber crystal from you. That pendant, in your room back on Ahch-To – what’s the story behind that, anyway? It’s part of Ben’s crystal – and I know the Force doesn’t do things like that by mistake. I wore it for several months before we knew. As much as I like my new lightsaber, sometimes I miss the weight of it around my neck._

_I miss Leia. I mean – I missed her before. Months of missing her. I wondered for a moment if you knew she was gone – but then I realized you would have felt her just like we did. Maybe even more so. Ben’s not okay. He pretends he is – but how could he possibly be? I’m not okay, either. But I’m pretending, for Ben. Because he has so much on him now._

_I bet you aren’t okay, either – wherever you are. Someday, I think you’re actually going to answer me. If you could just… tell me where you are, that would be great. I’ve got the entire might of the First Order behind me, now. We’ll find Holdo eventually, but sooner rather than later would be preferable. I want to help, Master Luke. I wish you could let me in. That one word wasn’t quite enough. I still don’t understand what you meant when you told me to run – from who? Or what? The First Order, you, Holdo, the Resistance, Ben? But I think about it every day._

Rey sat in silence for a moment, watching the galaxy ripple around her and chewing her lip in thought.

_You know, Master Luke – sometimes I think the only thing I’m running from is myself._

Luke’s band of darkness twinkled, the tiny pinprick of light a guide-star somewhere at its heart. Rey watched it for a long time, turning her anxious thoughts over and over in her head. She contemplated speaking her feelings to the blankness, but found her words had run dry. After a time she let go of her connection and drifted away, sleep finally dragging her under the waters into unconsciousness.

\-----

Across the galaxy, Luke sighed mightily and put his head in his hands. She was calling for him again.

He had heard her every time she’d reached for him over the months; every frightened cry, every angry scream, every frantic tug on the Force in her efforts to bring her to him. But tonight – tonight was the first time Rey had called for him since Leia’s death, and it took every fiber of his being to stop himself from stretching back across the river of Force to grasp her in return.

Tonight, she was quiet and sad. Tonight, she spoke to him like he was listening, like she had hope he would someday speak to her again. Tonight, she called back into his memory quiet nights around a fire, smelling the salted air and hearing the hiss-pop of logs as they burned. A life he’d thought was endlessly complicated at the time. Luke snorted to himself; he’d had no idea how snarled his existence could become.

His sister was gone – his fault, in the end. His nephew had long been lost to him – his fault, from the start. But Rey – he had yet to lose Rey. It was both a comfort and a curse.

Luke wondered if she would talk to him again. Perhaps tonight was the last night, tonight she would give up on him at last and fade away forever.

Perhaps not. It wasn’t in her character to give up, even when every rational thought screamed that it was the correct choice. A stubborn scavenger, to the last.

Despite how badly Luke ached to reach out to her he would not. Despite how much he should block her completely, erase any hope Rey may have of reaching him, he could not. He left the breadcrumb as much to give himself hope as to give it to her.

Luke sat across the galaxy, head in his hands, desperately trying to wriggle out of the trap that had been held him fast for over half a year.


	45. Chapter 45

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Kylo woke well before Rey, as he did most mornings. She slumbered on beneath his arm, her expressive face still wearing the deep furrow of a worry line across her forehead. It seemed that peace continued to escape both of them.

Gently, Kylo slid out of bed, taking the utmost care not to disturb Rey. She did not need to attend these mornings meetings – if she remained asleep, all the better. One of them needed to be fresh for what came later.

Glancing out of Rey’s window at the planet below, his stomach clenched unpleasantly at the thought of setting foot on Chandrila again. It was nowhere he felt a great desire to return, dredging up memories of his childhood which still remained a dark stain on his consciousness. After splitting time between Chandrila and Coruscant for the first eight years of his life both planets held a certain level of pain for him – but for some reason, Chandrila seemed to cast the bigger shadow.

He certainly did not want to return to the planet that haunted him in order to lay his mother to rest. Convenient, that all his ghosts would soon occupy the same space.

Kylo grunted angrily and looked away from the blue-green mass lying innocuously outside the ship. He resumed his morning ritual as quietly as possible, pushing the thoughts of this afternoon out of his mind. Rey slumbered on, even though the brief kiss he planted on her forehead and the beep-whoosh of the door opening. Perhaps she’d had a later night than he’d believed.

Stalking down the hall to the lift, Kylo was surprised to find Hux standing outside the door to his quarters, hand raised to rap on the door. He turned at the sound of Kylo’s boots on the durasteel floor, one pale eyebrow raising into his hat.

“You’re up early.”

Kylo grunted again, hoping against hope that Hux wouldn’t put two and two together and figure out he was leaving Rey’s room. The man was smarter than to mention it out loud, even if he had. “Good morning to you too, Armitage.”

Hux rolled his eyes, but gave no snappy retort. The feud which had once raged between them had been reduced to a simmer. Now, they seemed to understand each other - as much as two diametrically opposed foes could, that was. “I’ve brought the security overview for the memorial this afternoon. We’re expecting the Resistance to try something – a large gathering where you and Rey will both be present, it’s far too tempting a target. I don’t suppose you could convince…”

Kylo shook his head, already knowing where this sentence was going as well as knowing how futile it was. “Rey will be attending. She organized this after all, it would be strange for her to be absent. And as she would remind the both of us – harshly, I might add – she is not made for being kept safe. She can handle herself. To be frank, I believe the members of the public in attendance will be in far greater danger than Rey or myself.” He beckoned Hux towards the lift – they did have a morning debrief to attend, after all.

Hux scurried in after him, scrolling through something on the datapad and nearly thrusting it under Kylo’s nose in his haste. “Rey’s ability to handle herself is not something I’m questioning – I’ve been on the receiving end, after all - but if you look at what the numbers from the strategists, having the both of you present increases the chances of a large-scale attack nearly fourfold, perhaps we should -”

Kylo held up a gloved hand, feeling the lift sway around him as they rose through the floors to the command levels. “Hux – we are the First Order. The New Order, I should say. We cannot show weakness before the galaxy even as we attempt to convince them that we’re the right ones to lead them. If an attack happens, we will deal with it. Our response will be the barometer for all future attacks. Now tell me quickly, before I have to suffer through a longer-winded version during the brief – what security measures are we putting in place?”

_Was that my imagination, or did Hux just… smile? Maker._

“The Stormtrooper presence during the memorial will be nearly unprecedented. It’s a small park, and we fully expect to have to turn away thousands of those wishing to pay their respects. You and Rey will have a guard at all times – I see that look on your face, it’s as much for appearance as anything else. Your other four Knights will be patrolling the crowd. We’ll have security droids and drones overhead as well. We’re deploying the new scanners in an attempt to find anything that could even remotely be the Device – but since we don’t know what it even is, there’s only so much we can do on that front.”

Nodding, Kylo stepped off the lift and strode off in the direction of the conference room. “Good. Consider it approved. Now we can skip that portion of this briefing and make this meeting that much shorter. What else is on deck this morning?”

“A few more former senators pledging their allegiance are going to require some finessing. We’re in the beginning stages of drafting the repeal of slavery you requested – mind you, I still think it’s too early for that -”

“We are going to start as we mean to continue, Hux. Go on, what else.”

“And the education reform pillars are being discussed, as well as a formal apology for Hosnia which will pin it fully on Snoke.”

“There had better be breakfast.” Kylo ran a hand over his hair, suddenly regretting not ordering something to the room. Rey wouldn’t have minded being woken up, and this meeting was seeming impossible without the prospect of her irreverent mental banter to break it up.

“You really don’t like this, do you?”

Kylo stopped short of the door, turning to study Hux with what many would have considered to be a withering expression. The redhead, however, merely blinked. “No. I far prefer action to endless, droning meetings.”

Hux smirked. “This is action.”

“Not to me.”

“You _are_ quite the brute, aren’t you.”

“Mind yourself, Armitage.”

“You can’t kill me Ren, you need me.”

“Don’t be too sure.” Kylo fixed Hux with another glare, but the irritation that he should be feeling never came. The teeth had been removed from their insults.

A blank expression from the General, and Kylo wondered how in the fuck they had managed to get here from nearly killing each other in the span of only two weeks. _Necessity, that’s how._ And perhaps Hux was inherently less of an asshole when he didn’t think a misstep would end in his death.

_And maybe I’m growing softer._

Kylo groaned softly, pushing the door control and stepping into another two hours of hell. Hux stepped over the threshold gleefully, the manic glint that fixed itself in his eye around bureaucracy returning in full force.

Kylo sighed. He really did need that odious little worm.

\----

After waking and finding herself alone, Rey had retreated to the safety of the training room to work out her anxious thoughts. Takeshi had already been in the small space, providing a willing – if somewhat unsatisfying, compared to Ben – sparring partner. Rey had readily accepted his invitation to join him in his practice, and for around an hour they had worked out some pent-up aggression.

Now, the slim man was leaning against the far wall, panting with exertion as Rey swung her red-bladed saber around in a lazy circle.

“You keep saying you’re still learning that thing. I don’t think you know what ‘proficient’ really means.” Wiping his forehead, Tak slid down the wall to sit on the floor with a thump. A lock of damp blonde hair stuck straight up stubbornly.

Rey barked out a laugh, disengaging her saber and crossing the room. The dull ache in her muscles felt good – right. “You’ve never met my former Master. I think he’d still give both B-Kylo and I a run for our money.” Try as she might, it felt strange not to utter Ben’s given name. She would allow the slip-ups before Reth, but Tak and the others – it raised too many eyebrows.

“Now that, I’d like to see.” Tak grinned, blue eyes glinting in amusement. “I don’t know about you, but I’m peaked. Another time?”

Rey nodded, clipping her lightsabers to her belt and offering him hand up. “Another time. Besides – I have to go transform myself into a princess for this memorial.” She winced as some of her nervousness roared back in force. Maker, she was no good at this sort of thing.

Tak clapped her on the shoulder, a favorite motion of his. “You’ll do fine, _m’lady_. It suits you more than you think it does.”

Rey laughed again, this time for real. “Tak, if only you knew how little it truly suited me.”

“Well, as long as you don’t let it show. That’s half the battle, isn’t it? You’re still wearing a mask, Rey. It just may not look like mine.” Takeshi stepped out of the training room, tapping his blonde temple as he did so. The door slid shut behind him, and Rey flopped on the ground to stare at the ceiling as her heart rate slowed to a normal pace once more.

She could feel Ben, irritated at something or other in a meeting. He was usually done by now, but it appeared he was still stuck in somewhere between the cogs of the war machine they were disassembling. Rey sent him a brief wave of assurance – no sense in distracting him, he had a hard enough time staying focused. And they both needed to focus now more than anything.

Strange, how ill-suited they were for these roles they now found themselves in.

With a sigh, Rey rose and headed for her rooms. She stepped into the turbolift, grimacing as she thought of the duties ahead of her. A droplet of sweat rolled down her back, and Rey’s mind began running through all the things she had yet to accomplish in order to make herself presentable with no small bit of panic.

Shower.

Hair.

Dress.

Remember the names of the important guests. Practice a smile. Be prepared for awkward questions.

Be prepared for trouble in this unstable galaxy, still in the throes of its birthing pains.

She had to concentrate. The Force thrummed in her ears, reminding her that so much was at stake. Even something as simple as a dinner could have disastrous results now. It was enough to give anyone an ulcer, but especially her.

She opened the door to her rooms on autopilot, startling as J2 greeted her brightly. The protocol droid had transitioned from her companion and gardener to something of a butler over the last few weeks, allowing Rey to quietly eschew Hux’s repeated offers of her own personal droid cadre. She had a relationship with J2. She wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“Hello, Mistress Rey. I’ve called for the hairdresser droid, and I’ve selected an outfit -”

“Thanks, J2 - I’m in the fresher. I’ll be out soon.”

“Of course, mistress.” J2 bustled about doing goodness knows what – tidying some invisible speck of dust, most likely.

Quickly stripping and leaping into the still-cold stream, Rey scrubbed up quickly. The chilly water felt good on her sweaty skin, and the scent of evergreens soon filled the shower. Rey closed her eyes and tried to relax. She allowed her mind to wander back to the desert sands of Jakku, the forests of D’Qar, the impossible oceans and hills of Ahch-To.

The memory of Luke tugged on her heart again, shattering any peace she had tried to find for herself. Leia’s words rang in her ears, her admonition to take care of both of them acting as a call to action and a pang of failure. She had clung tightly to Ben, even as Luke continued to slip through her fingers.

With a sigh, Rey turned off the slowly-warming water and dried off, wiggling into the puffy white dressing gown Ben had found for her. It had appeared in her room - their room - just after he had his first opportunity to observe just how cold she got after a shower. The memory of his care warmed her nearly as much as the thick cloth did.

Rey padded into her room and plopped down ungracefully into her chair to await the tug and pull of the hairdresser. The memory of Leia’s fingers twisting her hair into a braid and of Ben’s large hands scraping her strands into a bun at the nape of her neck bit at her. The cold metal apparatuses of the droid were nothing compared to them.

Kriff, she hated this.

Rey knew from experience that this process was likely to take a while. Last night, it had taken over an hour of the droid’s clucking and fussing to get her hair into a state it had deemed acceptable. Today would be no better. Rey closed her eyes and settled back against the Force, drifting quietly in the muddy grey power lurking inbetween her bones and the stars. Out of habit, she found Luke, even though she couldn’t bring herself to call for him. Now, of all times, she couldn’t bear the silence that met her pleas. Not facing what she was preparing to do.

The tiny spark of Light left to him mirrored Ben’s own, a little flicker battling against the night. The memory of the beautiful golden cracks she had seen in him over half a year ago sucked the breath from her lungs. They had all but vanished to the undulating darkness - fear, anger, hate. Suffering.

Master Luke was suffering. As Ben had, before the Force brought them together.

But Ben was better. Not whole - he would never be whole, just as the scars of abandonment and starvation would never leave her fully.

But, on occasion, he smiled. He hoped; he planned for the future. He ate muffins and he  _loved her_. She felt it in her bones as surely as she felt the call of the Force lurking there. Nebulous and ill-defined, but a solid thing nonetheless.

A quick flash - not quite a vision, more of an insight - of Luke the farmboy, full of hope and blind trust. The Luke who had followed an aging Jedi across the galaxy; who had charged off to save his friends when they were in danger, heedless of the risk to himself. The Luke who had believed in the good of his father enough to redeem him, to topple the Empire.

Rey knew Luke better than perhaps anyone else left alive. She was the only one left who could reach him - she had already done it once, using up a year of patience on a windy island. She could do it again.

And all that notwithstanding, she had made a promise. Despite the corner of her heart telling her not to do it, to protect herself on this day of all days, Rey called tentatively for her master with Leia’s words reverberating in her brain.

She stretched her hand towards the Darkness, remembering how he had taught her to fish, to swim, to enjoy the crashing of the waves instead of fearing them. Laughter, bruises and scrapes, his borrowed cloak and hood against the winter winds she had been so ill-prepared for. Lessons in the Force, however reluctantly. Firelight and fish soup and the feeling of being  _parented_ , even by a grumpy dustball such as himself.

Rey would never knowingly abandon another person. Certainly not the closet thing she would ever have to a father.

But no matter how far she stretched, Luke remained just beyond her reach. Rey shrank back in on herself with a sigh. Force - she had reached Leia, why did Luke continue to escape her?

_He won’t hear you, Rey._

_Leia?_ Rey’s surprise manifested physically as well as ethereally, her startled jump transcending the plane. A muffled grumble came from the droid yanking on her hair, but Rey ignored it. She quickly swam back to the mothering voice she had so longed to hear.

_Leia! Oh Force, General, I -_

Warmth trickled through Rey, the blanket of a hug to her very soul. Emotion choked her, and Rey allowed herself to be held by the only mother-figure she had ever known. Rey couldn’t see her, but she knew Leia was with her. It was more than enough.

_Don’t be so hard on yourself, Rey. You’re doing exactly what you should._

Luke’s light danced and guttered in the corner of her eye, blown by some unseen wind. 

_I can’t reach him, Leia. I promised you I would take care of both of them - but I’m not. I can’t. What am I doing wrong?_

Leia chuckled softly, releasing Rey to stand invisibly to her left side. She still couldn’t see the projection of the General, but she felt her all the same. _I see no failure here. All things in time. As it happens, I could hear you. And today, that’s going to be enough._

Rey frowned, pondering.  _Could you hear me before? I call for him... I call for Luke frequently._ Every day, her mind whispered. You call for him every day. 

Leia’s spirit wavered -  perhaps shaking her head?  _No. Mysteries of the Force, my dear. All things in time._

Rey felt a small hand slip invisibly into her own as Leia gently lead her towards the darkness _o_ f her brother. Between the fingers of her open palm, a thread was woven - a line of the Force, trembling under her fingertips. Rey grasped it tightly, feeling a connection snap into place. She could find her way back with this. The signature embedded itself into her soul - a path back to herself, and a path to her master.

Before she knew it, the darkness of her meditation turned into the waning light of an afternoon sun, and Leia’s hand left her own with a brief squeeze. The absence of her strong presence left Rey feeling bereft, and she nearly lost her grip on the tenuous thread back home.

Fingers twined in the Force, Rey stumbled on a wooden floor in a shabby room as she shimmered into view, watching Luke materialize before her eyes in a similar manner.

The last of the Jedi was facing away from her, mechanical hand draped over his lap in a way that made Rey think it was no longer functional. Luke was leaning heavily on a small chest of drawers, seated on the edge of a small bed in a way that made it seem he was attempting to stand but having trouble. He looked old. And tired.

But the anger boiling in the room would have rivaled Ben on his worst days. And something worse – the Force around him felt wrong; bloodied, oozing, _infected_.

“Master Luke.” Her voice was soft even to her own ears, an exhalation. Not quite even a whisper.

Reluctantly, he turned to face her. His eyes were now seemingly set too far into the cavernous hollows of his face, offset by the bruise-like circles underneath. Their formerly bright blue irises were streaked with yellow and rimmed with red, and Rey stumbled backwards involuntarily. Luke said only one word, his crackling voice painting it full of resignation and regret.

“Rey.”

Before she could reply, Luke raised his hand. Rey felt a tug behind her navel, and she was thrown backwards into the waters of the Force.


	46. Chapter 46

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Kylo bounced on the balls of his feet with growing impatience, flicking his gaze between the chrono and the ornate outer door of the former Senate chambers on Chandrilla. He knew Rey had to be planetside by now - what was taking her so long? They were supposed to walk out nearly ten minutes ago. The roar of the people assembled outside the overlarge door to his left was growing from a dull roar into an impatient grumble.

Kylo was busy imagining all sorts of unpleasant scenarios, the tension of his worry causing his fingers to clench of their own accord. After several moments of this practice, he was becoming increasingly more spun up.

_Rey? Is everything alright?_

Silence from the Bond, her side closed and dark.

_Kriff._

Kylo ceased his bouncing and began to pace, Hux’s admonitions to keep Rey on the Supremacy suddenly sounding like the best idea he’d ever heard.

Just as he had resolved to open the small door behind him and look for her, Stormtroopers be damned, the door in question slammed open and Rey strode in flanked by at least ten troopers. She was beautiful as always; a vision in flowing dark charcoal organza – not quite a mourner’s black, but not her now-usual light grey tones. The tiny crystals in her hairpiece glinted even in the dim light of the antechamber, bracing her hair done up in some elaborate style. Twin braided loops hung low around her ears with the rest flowing free down her bare back to graze her shoulder blades.

She was fussing – loudly – at the stormtroopers who surrounded her.

“This level of presence is ridiculous – I can handle myself just fine, I walked fifteen steps from a shuttle to the inside of a building, I don’t need an entire squad of you lot shadowing me. I can handle myself.”

“Supreme Leader’s orders, ma’am.” If a trooper could sound exasperated, this one did.

“He should know better by now.”

Kylo almost barked out a laugh, but decided better of it at the last moment. It dissolved into a strangled cough instead, causing his own cadre of white-armored guardians to look at him askance.

“Good afternoon to you, too, Grey Lady.”

“Supreme Leader.” Rey was close enough for him to look into her eyes – her gorgeous, expressive… frightened eyes. Kylo frowned in consternation. She was terrified - far beyond her normal fear of performing this new role she found herself in. Mortal terror lurked in her gaze – but somehow he knew it was not for herself, or for him.

He gently nudged their Bond, but the link was closed and dark from her side. She shook her head just once, a cautious light in her eyes. “Ask me again later.” Her voice was the barest whisper, meant for his ears only.

Kylo narrowed his eyes, nodding sharply. He tugged on the Bond again, but Rey kept it tightly shut.

He didn’t like it when she shut him out.

Nothing to be done for it now. The assembly outside was getting louder, and they were only getting later. It was time.

Offering his arm in a way that had become habit in public, Kylo gestured towards the ornate outer door that lead to the exterior of the building. “The crowd’s getting restless.”

Rey nodded, looking up at him with eyes full of apology and sympathy. “We should probably go.” She grasped his arm with a trembling hand, squaring her shoulders and setting her jaw.

Kylo tried to ignore the quaking of her slight body next to his. He had no way of knowing if her fear was born of nerves or of whatever dark news she was holding back – but he couldn’t focus on that right now. One step, two steps, three through the door, and the reality of his mother’s death would be inescapable.

His father’s voice visited him again. Now, of all times.

 _Concentrate._ The rough timbre of his father’s speech seemed strange when ghosting through empty air. The man should be behind him, beside him, his large hands on the small shoulders of the young boy he had once been.

 _I’m laying my mother to rest._ Kylo said sharply, knowing there would be no reply from whatever shade of his father continued to haunt him. _I assure you it’s the only thing I can think of._ It wasn’t entirely true. A muddy river of useless disruptions roared through his brain, lapping at his heels and distracting him from the task at hand. Another step, one more from the door.

A wave of his hand, and the huge door opened wide. Sunlight flooded the dim inner chamber, the gems on Rey’s hair-comb casting a brilliant rainbow arc on the floor. Kylo paused, unsure how to take the final step that would put him before the mass of people below.

Silence, but a curious look from Rey. She tightened her grip on his arm, opening their link just a little. Only her warmth swam through, but it was enough for now. She led him forward, her small feet making no noise on the smooth stones as she tugged him imperceptibly along. The Stormtroopers followed a few paces behind, a v-shaped formation that seemed overformal.

One step further, and they were stood on the stairs of the old Senate building with the assembled crowd clapping in support below them. Kylo raised his free hand, the heavy black cloak sliding from his shoulder as he did so. The rumble of voices turned into a roar, but he found he could not enjoy the approval.

The bleached tooth of the obelisk glinted in the sun, catching his eye from across the park. 

White-armored bodies were already clearing a path through the crowd, the afternoon sun making their forms into rows of bones. He descended the stairs without much conscious thought, his only care was to slow his pace for Rey’s sake. She was unused to the finery she was now forced to wear, her steps small and cautious to avoid upsetting the delicate fabric of the gown as they made their way down.

The sun cast her skin in bronze, reminding him of the scavenger who still lurked behind the faux princess.

Silence fell as they made their way through the crowd, broken only by the hum of holo-cam droids as they soared on their prescribed routes. The tone of the crowd turned quickly from celebratory to funeral. They could not forget why they were gathered here.

Flagstones gave way to green grass, his booted feet crushing the blades as he continued his automaton’s walk.

Rey paused only for a moment before she caught his stride again – she was forever stunned by nature in all of it’s forms. What a tragedy she remained stuck floating among the stars, and now further trapped by the confines of this role they found themselves in.

There was so much of the galaxy she had yet to experience – so much he wanted to give her. Rain, and sunshine, green grass and trees and oceans full of crashing waves.

One step, two, three and they stood beside the obelisk. A figure in muted blue robes awaited them – a former senator who had known his mother, who had volunteered to speak despite his ties to the Resistance and not the First Order. A sign of commonality and accord, Hux had called it. The man had been thoroughly vetted, but now Kylo couldn’t remember his name.

All he could see were the white stones of the small spire, stretching toward the darkening sky.

His feet stopped of their own accord, Rey releasing his arm to greet the senator in the appropriate manner. J2 had taught her how – J2 was a good teacher and for all her misgivings, Rey was a natural.

Kylo would know – his mother had been the same way.

He greeted the Senator after Rey, more formal than she had been. The man smiled in a sad way as he apologized for Kylo’s loss, using kind words that meant nothing.

Kylo had lost his mother a long time ago. It was a pain he should have been able to live with. But as the man turned from them and began his speech, filled with generous words and reminisces about Senator Leia Organa and her legacy, Kylo found he had never quite learned how.

Only a few words stuck in his memory, the rest blending into background noise as the sun continued to slip below the horizon, casting the park in orange fire.

_Favorite daughter of Alderaan -_

_Bail Organa – a respected Senator in his own right;_

_\- Rebellion against the Empire, leading them to victory…_

Now it was his turn to tremble, rage and sadness warring for supremacy in his bones. Rey knew – she had to know, he was broadcasting himself helplessly on all channels. He felt, rather than saw, Rey drop the decorous façade which she had been trying to maintain. He looked down at her for a brief moment, the afternoon light illuminating the small hairs that had escaped her hairstyle in the humidity. A golden halo around her upturned face.

She wound her arm around his back, and he pulled her into his side. _Feel me,_ she said through their link, still tightly controlled but open as much as she dared. _I am here._

The holonet would be ablaze. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

_The galaxy is a poorer place with the loss of Leia Organa, a tireless advocate for the rights of every being – and always for peace, at long last._

His vision was filled with the towering white stones, his ears ringing with his mother’s name. Whatever he had expected to feel, it had not been this -  this numbness, mixed with anger. He felt muted; underwater. Kylo focused on counting his breaths, feeling strangely like he’d already taken too many of them. Each beat of the Senator’s calm cadence took his mother a little farther away from him.

So lost was he in his own mind that Kylo almost didn’t notice the black figure to the left of the Senator, approaching slowly from the crowd. The only indication that something was amiss came when Rey slipped from under his arm, her control over their link dropping as she drew the Force to her in a rush.

Her fear smacked him across the face, startling him to awareness and driving away the thoughts of his mother. Kylo drew his saber with a snap-crack only by reflex. It proved to be a useless gesture as Rey had the matter well in hand, her formal gown no deterrent as she sprung into action. The shadowy figure was hung upside-down in the air by his ankles, the crowd around them screaming and pulling away.

Rey’s voice cut through the last of his fog – sharp; commanding. “Fan out! If there’s one, there may be more. Troopers, get the Senator out of here. Try to control the crowd, a panic isn’t going to he-”

Her words were swallowed by shouts of alarm, a hole in the sea of people forming to his right. A Knight – the Heavy, it appeared to be – was grappling with a man holding a silver device above his head.

 _The weapon_. Kylo’s blood turned to ice in his veins, and he disengaged his saber before dropping the hilt to the ground before him. Both hands outstretched, he felt for the tiny device and pulled with all the Force he could muster. He could feel Rey with him, her own grip on the Force diminishing as she pushed her power toward him. There was no other choice - they had to get the device. Not only to save the lives of everyone present, but the lives of so many more if they could find a way to defeat it.

So he pulled, heedless of the panic of those around him. The crowd scattered, the Senator ushered away by bones in white armor. This was hard – so much harder than it should be. He roared, bracing himself in the ground as he began to slide forward. Someone else – someone else was pulling too.

With a rush, all of Rey’s Force joined with his as her desperation came along with it in a flood.

Warm metal smacked into his open palms as the heavy thump of a body falling thudded on the ground to his right. Gloved hands on thighs that were not his own, a yank and green grass was under a back that didn’t belong to him, cold metal in a sharp line against a throat.

Rey – Rey was in trouble.

Filled suddenly with righteous fury, Kylo cradled the device to his chest with his left hand, summoning the Force back into his fingertips. Before he fully registered his actions, the rebel who had pinned Rey to the ground was spinning through the air. His arc terminated abruptly as he was thrown against Leia’s memorial. The rebel’s head connected with a sharp crack, bright red blood spattering across the white stone.

The man slumped, and moved no more.

Sparing only a glance behind him at the dead man, he retrieved his saber and turned toward Rey. She was already being hauled to her feet by a nearby stormtrooper, her fine grey dress torn and smudged with dirt. But her face was fierce, and full of triumph. She was shoo’ing the trooper away as she regained her footing, head swiveling around for further signs of trouble. The hair comb was askew, one shoulder bare through the torn sleeve of her dress.

The Heavy dragged the other attacker over to them – still alive, struggling but no match for the raw strength of the deceptively small man. The Monk appeared from his left, bringing along another figure who cursed and spat till a wave of his gloved hand silenced the unfortunate rebel. It – whatever it had been – was over almost as soon as it had begun. Mere moments had passed – but now, they had a chance against this shadowy Resistance. The silver device was still warm in the palm of his hand.

One, two, three large steps till Kylo stood before Rey. He reached for her, catching her shoulder in his free right hand before moving his hand to her chin and tilting it upward. Kylo inspected the small cut across her neck in full view of the holo-cam droids that continued to hover excitedly overhead, running his thumb over the small well of blood that trailed downward.

“You’re alright?”

 She shook him off, catching his hand in hers and giving his fingers a squeeze before releasing him.

“I’m alright.” The sun was behind her, giving the good angel back her halo once more.

He smiled – a genuine one, this time.

Rey’s face split into a wide grin at the sight, the elation she felt from their victory and his response warming his chest. She reached down, placing her hand on top of his, which still held the small metal orb tightly against his chest.

“And now,” she chuckled, shaking her head, “we have the key.”

Kylo watched her mouth move, smudged as it was with dirt. He warred with the urge to kiss her, but sensed it was the wrong time despite receiving the same impulse from her. Instead he watched the sun slip behind the horizon, taking with it Rey’s golden halo at last.

The crowd was calming, screams of fear turning into scattered shouts of victory.

Heedless of the eyes that surrounded them, both electronic and otherwise, Kylo thumbed the dirt from her lip; tugged the torn shoulder of her dress upward; straightened her hair comb. Let them see.

This time, they were victorious.

They had the device – the Resistance would fall. His mother’s wish for a peaceful galaxy would be granted. He could not think of a better way to honor her legacy.


	47. Chapter 47

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

They did not need to wait long for an initial analysis of the device. What the techs found was short, sweet, and concise.

It was completely impenetrable.

Only two hours after their return from Chandrilla, Hux’s voice crackled over the commlink calling Kylo down to some lab in the god-forsaken underbelly of the Supremacy. He had been on a lift from the bridge as quick as a flash, Rey running along at his heels despite the lack of verbal invitation. Her instincts to follow him proved valuable, however – he narrowly avoided adding yet more damage to the beleaguered elevator cabin only by the grace of her hand on his arm.

This day had just not gone as he had thought.

Kylo stormed into the lab, sending two frightened scientists skittering away to their workstations as he flung the double doors wide using an angry burst of Force. “Hux, I thought I told you that we needed our best people on this. Top. People.” The low growling tone he employed did nothing to assuage the fear of the scientists, who immediately busied themselves with something fascinating on their terminals.

“Ren, these are our best people.” Hux’s face was more drawn than usual, the harsh lighting of the lab lending him a ghastly looking pallor. He never looked pleased, but now even less so.

Rey had rolled her eyes as she walked in behind him, a sight which he missed but the techs surely noticed. As usual, the tension in the room ratcheted down a degree when she walked in. His followed accordingly.

“Hux, what do you mean we can’t break in?” Rey’s voice was tight with anxiety – Maker, they were so close, so close to finding the key…

“I mean exactly that. Unless you want us to detonate it, which appears to be the only action we’ve quite figured out.”

“I vote no on the detonation.” Rey added unnecessarily, circling around the small table where the captured device lay innocuously.

“No scanners have been able to penetrate the material, or even give us a composition of it. There are no joins, no physical external structure that we can discern.” Hux ran a hand over his face in a gesture that would have had no place on the bridge, but seemed almost appropriate here.

Kylo let Rey and Hux drone on in the background and leaned closer to the little sphere. He circled the small table, hands behind his back. The tiny ball mocked him as it lay there innocuously – the answer to all their problems and the source of them all at once. Somehow, it felt more than a dead hunk of metal. Something in it _breathed_.

Kylo tilted his head, pausing his pacing around the table for a moment. Of course – how had he missed it before? A tuneless tone filled the air around the device, something subtle and yet – a calling; a cry.

His bones ached to listen.

All at once he drew back, surprised but trying not to show it. The device was fairly dripping with the Force. It oozed it on a cellular level, but it was _wrong_. More twisted than anything he had conjured up, even on his worst days. The universe, corrupted.

“I know why. I know why your scientists have been unable to learn anything.” The words escaped without his permission, stilling the air in the room. “Rey.” It was a plea for her presences as much as her attention, for Kylo felt deeply unsettled by the tune this _thing_ was weaving.

Rey was beside him in an instant, still and studious. “What is it?”

“Listen – what do you…” he trailed off, watching the realization dawn in her eyes before he’d had a chance to finish his thought. Their Bond quavered in something akin to fear.

Rey said nothing, flicking her attention from the silver sphere to his eyes. There was something lurking in her gaze, something he couldn’t quite discern – and when he prodded the Bond for more information he found himself gently misdirected. Kylo filed that tidbit away for later.

“Well that goes a little ways toward explaining how we survived that blast on D’Qar.” Rey mused, looking pensive – and angry.

“Care to explain to the rest of us?” Hux had taken a step closer and was looming over Rey’s shoulder to look down at the table. No trace of his usual sneer remained. For once in his life, the man looked tired. The façade was cracking.

Rey looked up him quizzically, twisting her shoulder backward to do so. “Can you hear anything, General Hux?”

The ginger looked down at Rey, scoffing. “I hear many things, but nothing out of the ordinary for this room. Machines whirring, consoles beeping, the sound of my life ticking away from me – the usual.”

Kylo scoffed despite the gravity of their situation. “I’m not surprised, Armitage. If you were the least bit Force-sensitive, you -”

“Is this really the time for thi-”

Rey cut in, annoyed. “Hux, this thing is swimming in Force energy. It’s somehow integral to it’s construction and its operation. But it’s wrong. Twisted. Dirty.” Something flashed across Rey’s eyes – a flicker of a face in their Bond – and it was gone.

Hux squinted at the little ball in annoyance. “Kriff. Of bloody course it is. Somehow I doubt any of our scientists are going to have any idea what to do with this Maker-forsaken thing, and now we’re back to square one. Damn it to the Reaches and beyond!” He smacked a hand against the console in annoyance, stomping off to the other side of the room.

Kylo looked at Rey, who was avoiding his gaze and staring intently at the device. “… could we crack it?” She looked up at him hopefully, a strand of brown hair falling from her hairstyle as she did so.

“We may not have a choice. We’ll have to try. But in order to do that, you’re going to have to tell me everything.”

Rey shrank back, dropping his gaze and looking at the floor. Her voice fell to a whisper. “It wasn’t that I was keeping it from you.”

“But you were.” Kylo looked at her almost reproachfully, but there was no true malice behind it.

Rey bit her lip, looking from him to Hux as she considered her next words. “Not here.”

“Obviously.” This word was whisper, but his next was a boom that startled the two scientists once more. “Hux.”

The ginger looked away from the window in exasperation. “Yes, yes, trot off and do whatever arcane magicks you’re going to do in order to figure out how to force this fucking thing open, I’ll just keep handling everything else in the meantime, won’t I?” He tugged off his hat, running a hand over his red hair.

“Of course you will.” Kylo kept his voice even, resisting the impulse to lob some insult back at the perpetually annoyed general. “We’ll be in touch once we have something… concrete.” With that, he took Rey’s arm. She tugged him toward the door before he even had a chance to start that direction, just as eager as him to leave that room behind them.

When they stepped through the door, a ringing he hadn’t even noticed left his ears.

\-----

Rey was sweating bullets by the time they reached her room, her freshly washed tunic sticking to the small of her back. She was frantically trying to figure out how to word her experience this morning in a way that was not going to send Ben through the roof. Her brief mentions of Luke in the past had always been met with indifference at best, and generally with anger.

Ben had not forgiven his uncle – and honestly, he was not likely to.

Rey worried her lip, trying not to draw blood and let on just how much her nerves were getting to her. Four steps; three steps till her door. Reth’s voice eeked into her memory, prodding her thoughts and reminding her to stand straight and to _stop biting your damn lip for Maker’s sake, Rey, it’s like you don’t listen to a word I say…_

She paused at the open doorway, foot hovering over the threshold of her – their – room. Rey caught Ben staring at that spot on her lip, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth so slightly only a practiced eye would have been able to spot it.

“You’re stalling.” His words rumbled out as the smirk evaporated into the air, startling her away from more pleasant recollections of his mouth and it’s smirk. Surprise caused her to clamp down, and the bright tang of blood touched her tongue.

Ben raised a solitary eyebrow and gestured inside her door. Rey plodded in, resigning herself to an unpleasant conversation as she flopped gracelessly down on her bed. Ben sat down beside her, catlike, barely making a noise as he sank against the mattress.

Unwilling to break the silence, Rey counted the plants hanging from her ceiling to ensure J2 hadn’t brought in a new one while they had been away.

In truth, she had no idea how to begin.

It appeared Ben did, however.

“It’s Luke, isn’t it.”

Rey startled again, her head shooting up from the mattress and the number sixteen flying from her mind. Her eyes bored into the back of Ben’s head, but now it was his turn to study the ceiling. The curtains of raven-wing hair parted slightly, revealing the still healing pink scar on his scalp.

“Yes.” How could she lie?

“How long have you known?” This held a note of accusation – or perhaps it was fear. Talk of Luke never, ever sat well with Ben. Especially not now.

Rey sighed mightily. “Really, not even till we heard the song of that _thing_. I just knew something was wrong. You remember that I still… look for him, sometimes?”

Ben dropped his gaze from the ceiling, nodding his head but looking anywhere but her.

“I got the shock of my life this morning. Your mother brought me to him.”

At this, Ben finally turned to face her. All the blood had drained from his features till he seemed paler than even Hux himself. His eyes were wide in surprise, dark pools of curiosity and fear. “What.” It wasn’t even quite a question – more of a flat, angry word.

“I was drifting while getting my hair fixed -” Rey jabbed a finger upward at her hairdo, which was barely clinging to dignity after the struggle this afternoon and her quick change into the black tunic and pants she now wore. “- and your mother just… found me. I didn’t have much chance to talk to her. She took me by the hand and gave me this little string which lead me back to Luke.” She flexed her hand, the memory of the web-strand of Force in her palm burning.

“I could see him just as… just as I used to see _you_. Like I could reach out and touch him, like he was really there. He’s on some planet somewhere, not a ship – but I couldn’t tell where. In a normal room, not a cell. The floors were wood. He looked old, so much older than when I saw him on Ahch-To… and his eyes, Ben. His eyes.”

Rey stopped, sitting up fully on the bed and hugging her knees to her chest. She knew the image of Luke’s haggard face was flowing through their link, and the sickly yellow streaks in eyes set above gaunt cheeks haunted her. She struggled to conjure up the memory of Luke’s face in the firelight to balance it out, but was met with a tiny blip of green-saber-lit snarl instead.

Ben still avoided her eyes, studying the backs of his hands like they held the secrets to the universe. Rey swallowed the lump in her throat, longing to reach for him but feeling that the time was not right.

“That explains why you were closed off to me this morning.” He mused, his voice flat and toneless.

“Yes.” There was no point in lying. “I knew it would upset you… fuck, _I_ was upset, and I didn’t want… the ceremony -”

Ben waved off her apology-filled words with a large hand. “No, no, you were right to. It wouldn’t have helped.”

Rey caught his large hand in her smaller one, longing to provide some small comfort as their world continued to burn. She held it for only a moment before Ben shook his hand loose, using it instead to grip her shoulder and tug her closer. Her body fell in line with his ribcage in a now-familiar way, melting together.

It felt just like home. The reality of their situation was kept at bay for just a moment longer as the scent of spice and liquor filled her nose till she could almost forget. But Ben’s next words brought everything back to crash around them.

“How did you know? When you heard that… _thing_ , you said. But how are you so sure it’s Luke?”

Rey worried her lip, pushing away Reth’s warning again and almost enjoying the fresh wave of discomfort that disturbing the bruised tissue brought. The memory of her strange meeting filtered through their Bond in full, and she could feel Ben analyzing it with a cool detachment she was incapable of at the moment.

“Ah.” It was the only thing he said for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, till Luke’s hand was raised and her memory ended back in the river of Force. The rumble of Ben’s chest against her ear made his resigned words shake the earth despite how quietly they were spoken.

“Because he felt just like the device.”


	48. Chapter 48

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Rey patted the rumbling ball of orange fluff as Hux continued to huff at her.

“I don’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand?”

“She hates other people.”

Millicent’s rumbles grew louder under Rey’s fingers, and Hux looked aghast.

“She’s purring. She’s sitting in _your_ lap, and she’s purring.”

Rey shrugged, scratching behind a pointed ear and quickly avoiding the clawed love-tap the cat aimed her way. “I’m good with prickly things.”

Hux pinched the bridge of his nose and choked back a laugh.

Ben leaned back in his chair, turning his attention from the silver orb and fixing the two of them with an irritated glare. “I’m _right here_.”

\-----

Rey leaned over Ben’s stooped shoulders to plant a kiss on his cheek, waking him up from where he had fallen asleep against the console.

“Come on. You’re not doing any good here. Go back and go to sleep, let me try again.”

Ben shook his head stubbornly. “Can’t.”

Rey frowned, noticing his five-o-clock shadow turning into full-on stubble in the wake of the days they had spent trying to crack the code of this kriffing device. She ran her hand over the prickly bumps, and Ben leaned into her touch. His head was so heavy she almost wondered if he had fallen asleep again.

“Go. I’ll keep working, and you know I’ll wake you the instant I make any progress.”

This time he nodded, eyes almost sliding shut of their own accord. He stood on wobbly legs, planting a brief kiss to the top of her head before ambling for the door. Ben stumbled against the doorframe with a loud thunk, bouncing away from the wall and reeling momentarily before righting himself.

Rey sighed, grasping his upper arm and gently guiding him back to the spare chair they’d drug into the small lab days ago. She could probably help him back to the room, but he would never want to show that level of weakness in public – not to forget the aforementioned shadow of a beard, an extremely uncharacteristic look for the newly-minted Emperor.

“Nevermind. Close your eyes, get what sleep you can. I’ll keep working.”

Ben had given into sleep before Rey even turned her attention back to the little sphere, the tuneless song burrowing into her ears. A flick of her hand had the silver ball floating in the air before her, and Rey delved into the waters of the Force as she continued to prod it for weaknesses.

Even as she pushed it away, Luke’s face wormed its way into her mind.

\-----

Each day wore on much the same as the one before. They worked in shifts, exploring every angle they could imagine to unlock the device. Hux stopped in several times a day to bring a status report of the general state of the galaxy (not good) and receive one regarding the obnoxious ball (also not good).

Sometimes, Millicent would accompany him in order to purr in Rey’s lap for a few moments more, a fact which vexed the General to no end and thus endlessly amused Kylo.

J2 would visit with food, tutting about the state of the room every time he did so. Rey had to warn him off of bringing a plant down here, reminding him they surely any moment now they would crack the code and could turn this work over to the scientists.

She kept that optimism even as the sixth day dawned.

Kylo had long ago lost his.

He turned the ball over and over and over, the toneless song burrowing itself into his brain and forcing him to grit his teeth. It called to him, and he had to struggle to resist it.

That frightened him more than the possibility of accidently detonating it. Whatever evil lurked inside this thing also lurked inside of him. He had no idea if he was strong enough to keep it at bay.

As if by some sixth sense, every time he felt at his blackest Rey would lean against him, or lay her hand on his arm. The scent of her evergreen hair would bring him back to reality.

If she was here, he could resist it. Whatever souls were made of, theirs were one and the same – and now they were inextricably woven together by threads of Force, inseparable by neither time nor distance.

Kylo’s only regret was that the split had been so uneven, and that everything that made him a decent person walked around on the outside of his body.

\-----

“I’m telling you, we should bring Reth in on this.”

Rey shook her head vehemently, her loose hair flying around her face as she did so. “No. Ben, please, listen to me on this. We need to keep this close.”

“Reth is close.”

“Maybe to you.”

“Are you still upset about what happened -”

“On the way to Hays Minor? You aren’t?”

Ben shrugged, though his face creased into a frown for a moment. “It’s just Reth.”

“He’s unpredictable.”

“He’s smart.”

“Give it another day, Ben. For me, please.”

Ben grunted and relented. “Fine. One more day. But we’re twisting ourselves up into knots for this, and we’re no closer to figuring out anything. I’m rapidly losing my ability to mediate at all because I see this _fucking_ thing in my sleep.” These last words were ground out angrily, his fists balled impotently as he eyed the red flower on Rey’s dresser.

She knew he’d never hurt that plant. All the same, Rey put steadying hands on his shoulders, dragging him back from the precipice of his anger and towards her.

The tiny stubbles of beard were now little hairs, thicker on his chin and above his full mouth. Rey had to admit she liked that look.

Before Ben could protest, Rey pushed him onto to the bed and flopped down beside his long body. Ben growled, throwing her a foot above him with the Force and dropping her neatly into his arms before she had time to react. Despite her own sour mood, she squealed in surprise as his teeth found the base of her throat, nipping then caressing in turn. The rough hairs of his beard tickled her neck as he continued his trail of kisses.

“Distract me, scavenger.” His breathy rumble swam over her skin, and Rey could already feel the heat rising between her legs in response.

Experience was finally beginning to win out over instinct, and Rey tucked a strand of dark hair behind Ben’s large ear as she caught his lips in a rough kiss. Ben was pressed fully against her, the physical indication of his desire already hard against her thigh.

Soon, all thoughts of the device lay alongside the puddle of their clothing on the floor.

\-----

The next day made it a solid week since Leia’s memorial, and the capture of the device. A solid week of working every minute available on this fucking puzzle they’d been handed and they were not any closer to solving it.

Rey had left Ben asleep in the bed, figuring that if he hadn’t woken up during her loud morning routine he wasn’t likely to. She didn’t mind – he needed to rest. He had been burning himself out over the stupid device.

They both had.

She had stood half in and half out of the shower stall to tap a quick message to J2 before scrubbing the reminders of last night from her skin. The droid would bring breakfast for Ben - muffins and caf, all he ever wanted. It would be something nice for him to wake up to - and judging by the level of sleep he had been getting and how loud his snores were, it wouldn’t be till sometime close to noon.

She had stood in the doorway for a moment, looking back at Ben’s large body starfished over her – their – bed. Maker, but she did love that stubborn idiot. 

Rey made it inside the lift only to pause with her finger hovering over the button for the lab. Responsibility tugged her down to that small room in the underbelly of the ship, a little cavern beside the brightly-lit lab. But she was just so worn down. A burnt end, frazzled and spitting.

She needed to work out some pent-up aggression before she could face this problem with a clear head. Perhaps a spar with a training dummy would be her best bet. A jab of her finger called the lift to a floor close to her own.

She still hadn’t quite gotten used to her newfound freedom to move about the hulking ship – as long as she didn’t mind the prying eyes of curious onlookers, that was.

Rey sauntered into the training room, fully expecting it to be empty at this hour of the morning. Instead, Tak’s puppydog face greeted her, his shaggy blonde hair flopping into his eyes and already matted with sweat. Rey had happily agreed to engage him in a practice round.

But as she got into it, Rey began to regret her decision. Instead of letting her anger and frustration flow out of her, they seemed to build with every stroke. She was reminded of all the times she had fought here with Reth, trained alongside him, listened to him, _trusted_ him.

Despite herself, she missed his counsel. She missed his friendship.

They truly could use his help to unlock the device, but Rey couldn’t move past her own betrayal.

Was that a failure, or her instinct warning her away?

The itch between her shoulderblades became too much to bear, her anxiety eating a hole in her chest in response. Rey roared in fury as she flung her blue saber across the room, narrowly missing Tak’s head. He ducked just in time, rolling across the floor and lobbing a blaster bolt her way. Rey sent it into the padding with a careless swing of her red saber, and threw the hilt to the ground in fruitless anger. She sank to her knees beside it, the weight of everything that had happened over the past week pushing on her chest till she couldn’t breathe.

Tak holstered his blaster and approached her slowly. “Rey… are you alright?”

She couldn’t answer, her lungs refusing to hold air long enough for form a word. Half falling to the floor, she hugged her knees to her chest. Rey closed her eyes and focused on slowing her heart. _Panic kills_ , the desert sands whispered to her. _Don’t give in._

Rey felt Ben rouse to wakefulness in the Bond, perhaps prodded by her distress. She closed their link as quickly as possible – she couldn’t have him in her head, not now.

Tak knelt beside her, blue eyes worried and his mouth set in a tight line. “Do you want me to get Kylo? I can -” The words fell away as Rey shook her head vehemently.

Tak rocked back on his heels. “I know what these are. Me mam used to have them, back home. We called them her spells. Just breathe, Rey. The devil’ll leave your chest.”

Rey put her hand out blindly, and Tak grasped it without hesitation.

\-----

Kylo awoke with a jolt, alone in Rey’s – their – bed. He thrashed for a moment, tangling the covers and eventually just knocking them and himself off the bed entirely. He sat naked on the floor, more clearheaded than he had been in a solid week.

He knew what to do with the orb.

Struggling out of the twisted green blanket, he yanked on yesterday’s pants and shirt, not bothering with his surcoat or shoes. Kylo bolted from the room, sliding down the hall till he stood before the lift. He slammed the heel of his hand on the control, bouncing on the balls of his feet and willing the thought he held in his brain to remain there.

It seemed like it took hours to reach the tiny room, and he found Hux looming over the little ball as if he actually had any idea what to do with it.

Kylo had no patience for this. “Move.” He barked sharply, and Hux swiveled his head to glower at him. The ugly expression evaporated in the wake of Kylo’s disheveled appearance, however.

“Good morning to you too, your Excellency.” Hux took a large step backwards, gloved hands held in the air. “I stopped by to check on your progress during a break from, you know, running the entire fucking galaxy, but neither you nor Rey were here…”

Kylo had tuned him out, honing his focus till only that maker-forsaken ball remained.

Yes – of course. It was right there all along. How could they have been so blind?

Kylo threw the ball into the air with a twist of his wrist, suspended in the Force. He could just barely make out Hux’s squawk of protest behind him at the rough treatment of the dangerous weapon, but Kylo was beyond that now.

The silver globe twirled in the air above him, and Kylo raised his other hand in concert with it. The only button on its smooth surface – the one they had assumed would detonate the device – called to him.

He pushed it, Hux’s grating voice raising to a fever pitch of dissent in his ears.

The little ball stopped its rotation as some sort of pattern appeared on it’s surface, twisted and snarled. It fell into two separate halves, hollow inside. A tiny piece of wood and a crystal landed in Kylo’s open palm, and he turned them over in fascination.

Hux peered over his shoulder, completely flabbergasted. “I have to say, Ren, this wasn’t exactly what I expected to happen there.”

Kylo fixed him with a look before replying. “Worried I was going to blow us up, Hux? Don’t worry. If I was going to kill you I wouldn’t have taken myself along too.”

Kylo held the wood up to the table-top light, peering at the fine grain that ran the length of it. The fragment was no bigger than his smallest finger, and even slighter around. “It’s a Force-sensitive tree. A very, very old one, gone twisted… and Dark. I can’t be exactly sure… but I believe it’s acting as a focuser. That means there’s no true way for the carriers to detonate these weapons themselves. They press the button, of course. But whatever is causing the people to disappear…” he trailed off, carefully setting the piece of wood down and examining the crystal instead.

“We’re not going to be able to stop this, are we.” Hux sounded resigned, and he stepped away from the table to study the stars in frustration.

“Not easily, no.” Kylo huffed out a breath, blowing a piece of his snarled hair out of his eyes. He knew there was a way to end these attacks once and for all. He just wondered if he’d have the stomach for it.

At that exact moment, both of their datapads binged an alert. The two men exchanged a look of apprehension as they thumbed open their pads; both of them hoping against hope that it wasn’t news of another attack. The tiny aurebesh characters crawled across the screen, and Kylo could hardly believe the words they formed. The blood in his veins froze solid. It was just a message from docking control – brief, and to the point.

The Falcon was in their hangar bay.


	49. Chapter 49

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Rey was stepping out of the shower when she noticed her datapad pinging insistently. She had returned back to the room earlier than she had planned, and was surprised to find Ben was already up and out. She had fully expected him to still be snoring away in the bed, but that was Ben. He never slept well.

Dripping water onto the cold floor, Rey padded over to the dresser and flicked open the notification that kept tenaciously popping up.

She nearly dropped her towel to the floor in surprise.

A tap-tap-tapping at her door caught her attention, and Rey managed to keep herself mostly covered as she scrambled to peer through the peephole. After the message she had received, she expected anything. J2’s glowing eyes stared back at her, and Rey unlocked the door without bothering to dress. Of course – Ben’s breakfast.

“Good morning, Mistress Rey. I trust you slept -”

Rey shoved the datapad into his metal hand, pointing frantically to the message that was still flashing on her screen. “J2, have you seen this?”

J2 set down the caf and muffins before giving his full attention to the brief missive. Rey poured herself a cup of caf with nervous hands, forgetting to add her usual amounts of cream and sugar before taking a sip. It wasn’t bad, and she grimaced slightly. Ben must be rubbing off on her.

She took another sip as J2 set her datapad down, looking her in the eyes with a solemn expression even for him. Rey was constantly amazed at the range of emotions he managed. Sometimes she even forgot he was a droid. “I had not heard of this, Mistress Rey. However, I am not exactly surprised given what Master Ren discovered this morning.”

Kriff – what else had she missed?

“I haven’t heard from Ben since last night – I left before he was awake. Whats going on, J2?”

J2’s silvery eyes glowed brighter in surprise. “Master Ren did not tell you himself? He opened the device.”

_Bloody fucking hell shit ass dammit you kriffing moof milker why didn’t you tell me?_

Somewhere in the middle of that tirade she had flung their link back open, having forgotten it was still shut from her panic attack earlier.

 _Good morning to you, too, sunshine._ Ben’s internal voice was light, but it was hard to miss the undercurrent of tension. _I take it you got my message?_

_Yes – and one of my own from J2, who tells me you opened the device at last!_

Silence met her statement, and Rey blinked in confusion. Shouldn’t he be excited about finally cracking the puzzle? They were going to win! They had done it.

 _Rey… just come to the small conference room off the bridge as soon as you can._ Was it her imagination, or did Ben seem almost sad? There was definitely something he wasn’t saying. Rey’s jubilation turned back into worry, and she let their connection fade into the back of her mind, a solid brick of dismay.

J2 had brought out his plant mister and was busying himself with the Millaflower, which had grown exponentially over the last few weeks. He was tutting to himself about making a cutting, and Rey left him to his business as she dug through the closet for something appropriate to wear.

“Might I suggest the light blue shift and your grey outer robe? It should suit nicely. They are on the left hand side, beside the black tunic.” J2 hadn’t even stopped what he was doing, still fussing over the Millaflower.

Rey grabbed the clothes and sighed in relief. She never knew what went with what or which dresses were required for which occasion. Thank the Maker for J2 and his seemingly omnipotent ability to remember the contents of her closet.

She dressed quickly, her stomach coiling and uncoiling upon itself as she remembered that her friends were waiting for her.

\-----

Kylo watched the door with no small amount of irritation, decidedly unhappy about being stuck in this small room with three people who actively hated him and one with whom his personal history was complicated at best.

Hux, for his part, kept his nose completely in the air both literally and figuratively. The one with the bearing of a stormtrooper – Finn, Rey called him Finn – was glaring daggers in his direction.

He remembered the curly-haired pilot. Poe Dameron. He was an uncomfortable ghost of two different pasts, now – both Kylo’s near past and Ben Solo’s distant history. A flash of a toothy white smile as they climbed some tree on Yavin 4 while his mother was in meetings kept flittering back into the forefront of his mind. Kylo wondered if Poe had made the connection, because the pilot was looking anywhere but at him.

The girl mechanic was studying something on a cracked datapad, pausing every few seconds to scroll further down. Chewbacca sat beside her, arms crossed over his chest which seemed oddly naked without the bandolier that now hung on Rey’s wall. He wondered inanely if she would return it to him.

The Wookiee’s eyes had never once left his, despite not making a sound. Kylo couldn’t tell if he was angry or simply resigned, and thus he refused to be the one to speak first.

Once Rey got here things would be easier. These four could finally tell them what they’d come for. Poe had made it clear when Kylo strode into the hanger bay that this was not a surrender, but a call for a truce. The girl had chimed in that they would only talk to Rey, and Finn had nodded in assent. Chewbacca merely loomed behind the three humans, saying nothing but forming an imposing picture all the same.

The door chimed at last, and all six heads swiveled to attention. The crack of the door revealed Rey’s tan face alongside the backs of several white helmets standing guard outside. She fairly bounced in, carrying Chewbacca’s bandolier slung over one shoulder. The four visitors brightened immediately, the Wookiee letting out a low bray as Rey wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

Hux’s eyebrows climbed into his hairline.

“Chewie – Maker, it’s so good to see you all, you have no idea – Chewie, here, please, take this back, it’s not mine – Poe, you look so well, Rose, Finn…” Rey trailed off, her eyes reddening as she mastered herself. The three humans murmured their own greetings, rising from their seats together to embrace her in turn. Kylo rolled his eyes at the display of bonhomie, even as he realized some of his annoyance was born of jealousy.

“We saw the holo of the memorial ceremony…”

“The General would have been proud.”

“You look good, Rey, like a proper little princess.”

“Shut up Poe -”

Hux cleared his throat, looking vaguely nauseated by the whole display. Kylo couldn’t say he felt much different.

Rey chuckled, releasing the girl – Rose – and finding a seat to Kylo’s left. “I’m so glad you believed me.”

_Believed her – what?_

Poe shook his head. “It’s not that we believed you or didn’t believe you, Rey. We’re simply out of options.”

Hux growled, his patience at its limit. “I do believe it’s time you informed us as to the purpose of this visit, then.”

Poe glared at him, turning his attention fully back to Rey. “Rey, I don’t like who you’re working with – I never will – but we need help. We know where Luke is -”

Kylo didn’t need their link to feel Rey’s surprised start, and his stomach sank into his boots. This was not going to be an easy conversation.

“You do? Maker – Poe, he’s bad. He’s very bad off. We need to get him out of there, and if he’s there Holdo must be as well…”

“Exactly. So cough up the location -” Hux had completely lost any veneer of civility, the possibility of finally capturing their hated enemy lighting the war fires in his eyes.

The stormtrooper – Finn, Kylo reminded himself – snapped back at the General with a vitriol Kylo had not expected. “Wait your turn, murderer. We told you we’re dealing with Rey, you’re here as a courtesy.”

“You remain alive at the discretion of the Emperor himself and no one else, you’d do well to remember that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, we missed the formal introductions, are you the Emperor or just his attack dog?”

“Finn, calm down -”

“I am calm, Rose, this is calm when I’m sitting across the table from the madman who ordered the destruction of the entire Hosnian -”

“That was Snoke, I pulled the trigger and I’ll cop to that, but Snoke was the man behind it…”

“Right, of course, because old Snake Face pulled everyone’s strings, not just Emo Boy over here.”

“Poe Dameron, mind your tongue!”

“Rose, you aren’t my mother -”

_Gawarroaaarrggg - !_

“Chewie, do you really think that’s helpful right now?” Kylo surprised himself by responding to the Wookiee’s sass, and everyone’s attention was on him for a brief moment.

“Oh bloody hell, of course _he_ speaks Wookiee.” Finn rolled his eyes, throwing his hands in the air. “Does everyone understand him but us?”

Kylo squinted. “You mean you’ve been living with three people you couldn’t talk to for almost a year, Chewie? Maker.”

“You haven’t managed to learn Shyriiwook yet?” Hux seemed flabbergasted. “Even I know enough to get by.”

The Wookiee growled in assent, tossing furry paws in the air. Rey chuckled, and some of the tension left the room when she spoke. “Everyone – and I do mean everyone, Hux, cut your crap – calm down. Poe, give us the location and we’ll handle the extraction and get rid of Holdo.”

The pilot’s forehead creased into a frown. “We want to be on the strike team.”

Hux cut back in, shaking his head. “Impossible.”

Kylo agreed, but for reasons that were his own. No one else knew what he did, and if he had his way it would stay that way.

Rey shot him a look. “They wouldn’t get in the way. We could do it – the Knights and the four of them along.”

Kylo’s stomach turned. If only she knew – but he could never tell her the truth. As much as he hated Luke, he loved Rey far more. He was finding that love was stronger than hate.

He would do everything in his power to keep Rey’s recollections of his uncle untarnished. Luke could live in her memory in a way he’d never live in Kylo’s. It was the last gift he could give the old man, a kindness he did not truly deserve. But Luke would not be leaving whatever planet they found him on alive. Kylo would make sure of that. It was too dangerous to leave him alive, now.

“No, Rey – Hux is right. We will handle the extraction alone. This situation is too big to have variables we cannot control. We’ll send a full invasion force down. All of us in this room – you and I included – will remain aboard the Supremacy.”

“What? No, I’ll never just sit still while -"

Though Hux opened his mouth to reply, it was Rose’s voice that broke in first. “No, Rey – I think he’s right. You’re… something else now. The both of you are.” She turned her datapad around, showing their side of the table exactly what it was she had been tapping through. It was message after message on a public news forum regarding the two of them – optimistic, glowing comments on the galaxy’s “new royalty”, as they had been termed. Speculation on their relationship, comments on their ability to fight as well as lead, effusive praise for the education reforms already underway – and only a few nasty comments, almost all of them overwhelmingly positive.

It was not exactly news to Kylo, but apparently Rey did not read the news articles as much as he did. The blood left her face in a rush, the high pink flush of embarrassment remaining over her cheekbones. Silence fell over the room as Rey took the pad from Rose, flicking her attention between the reports and Kylo’s pained expression.

“You have the chance to do something bigger than any of us, Rey. You both do. You’re bridging the gap.” Rose took the pad back from Rey’s nerveless fingers with a small smile. “You can’t jeopardize that. Not now.”

Kylo found himself feeling oddly grateful for the round-faced girl, and it wasn’t just because she was making his point in a better way than he ever could. There was something comforting about her – something calming, and steady. She was an old soul.

Hux cleared his throat, disturbing the stillness of the room. “If we’re all in agreement… if someone could provide me with the coordinates, I can begin to assemble the necessary resources.”

Rey sat silently, her gaze still on her hands.

Poe and Finn exchanged a glance. “We’ll stay behind if we’re given the assurance that once this is done, we’re all free to go. I want it in writing.”

“You’ll have it.” Kylo promised readily. There was no reason to hold them, regardless. They would fade into the background of the galaxy to live their quiet lives, no threat to the masses. They were not this new Resistance.

“I’ll draw it up. Please wait here.” Hux rose from Kylo’s right, practically salivating at the idea of ending this conflict. The hold they had over the galaxy would be unshakeable.

Kylo couldn’t bring himself to be excited about the idea, which truly troubled him. The walls were closing in around him, and a cage built of other’s expectations hemmed him in on every side. He wasn’t built for this. He was not this self-made Emperor everyone wanted him to be.

“Can I have a word?” Rey’s voice was soft; muted. Surprised, Kylo nodded his assent and stood quickly. Once outside the room, Rey took his arm and tugged him down a side hallway to put distance between themselves and the listening ears of the stormtroopers standing guard.

“You really mean to let this operation go down without you? Without us? Maker, Ben, everything we’ve worked for…” She trailed off, biting her lip. “I can’t let it go. I can’t let someone else handle this. I have to be there – I have to get Luke out, he knows I’m coming, he has to know now. We have to get Holdo – don’t you want your revenge? You want to wash your hands of this now?” As she spoke, the look on her face went from scared to angry. “Your mother, Ben.”

Kylo swallowed the lump in this throat, warring with his decision to keep the truth from her. He looked down into her hazel eyes, full of fire, and tried to call Rose’s words back into his mind. The little mechanic had been right – and he could steal her motivations for his own.

“This is so much bigger than my need for revenge.”

Rey narrowed her eyes. “That doesn’t sound like you. Ben, I know you’re keeping something from me. I’m not stupid. There’s something else going on here. Come on, Ben - just tell me.”

Kylo shook his head. “No. Rey, I mean it. Neither of us are going down there. This is bigger than us.”

Rey dropped her hold on his arm, backing away a pace. “I can’t let it go like that.”

“You think this is easy for me? There’s a different between what I want to do and what’s best.”

“Not this time.”

“Rey, please – let it go. Your friends are safe. This is going to end. You don’t have to be an actor in this final scene.”

“I am not made for being kept safe, Ben!”

“Believe it or not, Rey, this isn’t about you.” Lies. It was all for her, always.

“Oh really.” She crossed her arms over her breasts, looking angrier than she had been in months. “Then tell me what it is about, Ben. Because this isn’t sitting well with me.”

“This is about ending the war. About having the galaxy at peace at last.”

Rey shook her head. “I don’t believe you. There’s something else here that you aren’t telling me.”

Kylo opened his mouth, snarling out his next words in hurried frustration. “You don’t have to believe me. I’m right. Let it go, Rey. Maker, it’s like you want to throw yourself in harm’s way. I didn’t realize you had such a deathwish.” Even as his mouth was still forming the words, he regretted them. _Oh kriff, Kylo, that wasn’t the right thing to say…_

The light left Rey’s eyes, and she looked down at her feet. “If you don’t understand why I feel the need to do something, maybe you don’t know me at all. Or maybe I’m not who you think I am.”

Before Kylo could process her words, Rey had disappeared down the hallway, leaving him alone in the dark.

\-----

Hours later, Rose plodded back up the Falcon’s ramp. They were free to go – official pardons in hand, the ink still wet.

They were free, their duty discharged – they had delivered the coordinates to the little backwater planet Luke was stashed on, and since the New Order, First Order, whatever the kriff Order they were didn’t want their help, there was nothing further they could do.

It still didn’t sit right with Rose, however.

And where was Rey? She had run off and never come back, not even to say goodbye. Kylo and General Hux had both been there till the end, a dark shadow and an irritating red speck. Neither had given an excuse for Rey’s absence.

Rose had only truly known Rey for two days, but it had still seemed out of character for the girl. But so much had changed – why was it so hard to believe that Rey had, as well?

Chewbacca had walked in behind her, still carrying the bandolier that Rey had returned to him. Rose called out to him, but he disappeared down the hallway to quarters without so much as a word. Clearly, he wanted to be alone. She could hear Finn and Poe arguing loudly in the kitchen, but tuned out the specifics of their fight. She felt sure it had something to do with Rey.

Rose decided to spend some time alone rather than play referee yet again, and the cockpit seemed to be the best place for it. She sighed, turning the corner and taking the few steps to the small cabin in silence. She opened the half-sized door and stopped dead in her tracks.

Rey sat in the pilot’s chair, swiveled partially around to face the door. She was wearing head to toe black – some sort of long cowl covered most of her head. A mask lay innocently in her lap, but it was a mask Rose knew – she had seen it, back on Ord Mantell.

This was Rey – but not the Rey she had known. This was Rey of the Knights of Ren.

“Maker, it took you long enough. Are we doing this or what?” There was a feral gleaming in her eyes, and Rose’s stomach turned.


	50. Chapter 50

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

As Rey stalked around the corner into the kitchen, Finn and Poe’s argument petered out. Both of them stared at the specter in strange dark clothes as if they were seeing a ghost.

“Maker – Rey, that _was_ you, on Ord Mantell. I didn’t…” Poe’s face blanched, and he gestured helplessly at her helmet. “I didn’t know.”

She remembered how it had felt to see the hatred in his dark eyes and tried place his words alongside that memory. It was a tiny balm, but one she would take nonetheless. Rey shook her head, sending the cowl and her loose hair flying around her shoulders. “I’m just glad I recognized you. It was… that day… I can’t even explain it to you. I just can’t.”

“I think there’s a lot about you we don’t understand.” Finn’s words were quiet and resigned. The truth of them hit Rey like a ton of bricks.

“You’re right, Finn. But we don’t have time to flesh it all out now. Plug in those coordinates, we’re leaving.”

Chewbacca rounded the corner, growling. _“What are you doing, Sunbeam? Little Ben said to stay.”_ A furry hand adjusted the satchel against his hip, as if the weight felt strange after so long.

“Chewie, I can’t just sit around and do nothing. We have to rescue Luke – we have to end this.” Rey’s hands punctuated the air for emphasis. How was everyone so content to sit around and do nothing?

“It is  _being_ ended, Rey. We’re not required. Besides – if we rush off like that, we’re going to violate our pardons.” Finn crossed his arms, taking a step back from Poe and leaning against a shipping crate.

Rey laughed darkly. “You don’t think I can take care of that for you? Just trust me. Please. I can’t explain it – I just know Luke’s in trouble. We have to go.”

“Why you, specifically?” Rose had been a silent shadow as she trailed Rey from the cockpit to the kitchen. She looked pensive, and worried.

“I don’t know, Rose.” Rey admitted softly. “I just… I have this feeling.”

“Is it the Force?” Rose’s dark eyes shone with curiosity, and the strange cosmic energy in question wiggled along Rey’s backbone in response. It didn’t seem for or against this course of action. Overall, it seemed anxious – like something was hanging in the balance. It only goaded Rey on.

“Yes.”

Poe shrugged. “Good enough for me. I don’t give two shits about this new Empire’s pardon aside from them not keeping me captive, and our asses are already back on the Falcon. I can’t imagine the General would have wanted us to sit this out. Let’s do this.”

Finn looked worried but did not argue. Rose, for her part, was silent. Chewbacca turned toward the cockpit without another word, and after a moment the engines began to groan underfoot.

“I’d better go help Chewie get clearance from the tower to leave.” Finn walked quickly out of the kitchen, seemingly glad to be free of the tension in the room.

Rey crossed her arms over her chest, not noticing that the shift put her two sabers on display till she caught Rose staring at them intently.

“So… where are we heading, anyway?” Rey unfolded her arms, once more hiding her weapons from view. The tension in the room was thick, and she wished more than anything for the easy companionship that they had felt the last time they sat together in this kitchen.

But it was true – you could never go home again.

Poe cleared his throat, looking away from Rose and directly at Rey. It was impossible to tell what he was truly thinking, his dark eyes full of apprehension. “Place called Quell, in the Outer Rim. You’ll feel right at home, Rey… it looks just like Jakku but with grass.”

Rey frowned. “How do you mean?”

“During the Clone Wars, a huge battle was fought in the planet’s upper atmosphere. Nearly the entire planet is a ship’s graveyard.”

\-----

It was hours before Kylo truly noticed Rey was missing.

He had been stuck in meetings with Hux, coordinating their strike across the galaxy. They were taking no chances this time – an entire invasion force was landing planetside. With the information provided by Rey’s scruffy friends, they not only knew where in the galaxy Holdo’s faction was hiding, but their exact coordinates. It was more information than they had ever had before.

It should be a seamless operation, something the well-oiled gears of this war machine he helmed could handle without a second thought.

They had been instructed to take no chances. They would burn the planet to the ground before they let Holdo or Luke escape. It would be over in a matter of hours.

But Kylo couldn’t shake the unease he felt.

He trudged back to Rey’s room at nearly midnight, suddenly cognizant of the fact that she had kept their link shut all day. She was mad at him – rightfully so. He’d been an ass. She’d never know he was only trying to spare her the knowledge of another betrayal – and Kylo could live with her being angry at him for a while, if it meant he succeeded in protecting her.

Kylo opened the door to her – their – room and found it empty. Frowning, he stuck his head in the open ‘fresher door, but that small room was empty as well. Her sabers were missing from their place on the wall.

He tapped his datapad – there was no note.

Turning quickly on his heel, he stalked down the hall to his room, largely unused now. It remained still and cold and empty, no brown hair or cast-aside boots to greet him.

The training room, perhaps. Kylo practically ran to the elevator, his sense of unease growing. He tapped the Bond, gently at first but increasing in fervor as their link remained tightly closed.

Nothing.

The lift dinged, depositing him by the training room. A peek through the door told him it was empty as well. Fishing his ‘pad out of his pocket, Kylo shot off a message to J2 before returning to the lift. The droid’s response was nearly instant, and Kylo read it leaning against the door to Rey’s room.

_I have not seen the Mistress Rey since this morning._

Kriff.

Kylo let himself into their room once more, hoping against hope that what he suspected was not true. He flung the door to the closet wide, looking for the hollow eyeslit of Rey’s mask to glower down at him from its usual place on the top shelf.

Only empty air met his stare.

Fuck.

He pulled the datapad out from his pocket, pulling up the flight manifests for the day and quickly thumbing through the records. The Falcon had left their Hanger shortly before noon – mere moments after the four pardons had been issued. Delving deeper into the data, Kylo looked for something, anything, that would confirm his suspicions were correct. And there it was – heat signatures registered five humanoids, not four.

She was gone.

Kylo took a stumbling step backwards, the backs of his knees hitting the dresser and knocking the red Millaflower off it’s precarious perch. Using the Force, he was able to catch it just before the pot shattered on the austere floor. He sank to the foot of the bed, feeling numb and unreachable.

She’d be back. She had to come back. She was not so unfeeling as to leave forever without telling him. Perhaps she just needed some space.

Kylo looked around the room, and down at the red bloom in his hands. She hadn’t taken her flower. She had taken nothing but her weapons and her mask – no change of clothes, no sentimental items. Nothing.

Rey had to come back.

Kylo sat blindly on the bed, clutching the pot in both hands as he tried to process just how badly he had fucked up.

\-----

Uncomfortable hours later, Rey stepped off the ramp of the Falcon and slid her mask over her face. She gestured for the others to follow her, and they fell in line with only a flicker of hesitation.

They were still unused to this version of her.

She didn’t exactly blame them.

Looking around at the landscape before them, Rey was surprised to see how right Poe’s description of the planet had been. Jakku, with grass. Green rolling fields, little copses of trees, and the bones of downed ships were the only things she could see for kilometers.

Poe sidled up beside her, voice low. “We parked the boat a few clicks east of the location we were given. I doubt your First Order mates are going to be that subtle. We need to move quickly.” Rey nodded, not anxious to speak and have her friends hear the low growl this mask turned her voice into.

They trusted her so little now.

“It should be just over that ridge. I think it’s only about an hour’s walk.”

Rey tilted her head and set off, trotting briskly with the others lining up behind her once more. She tugged the door of the Bond, making sure nothing could escape. Ben was going to be furious with her as it was – no need to have him distracting her in the moment. She would fall at his feet for forgiveness once she had rescued Luke. She could only hope she would receive it.

The Force trembled in her fingers, shivering up and down her arms. She was ready for this.

\-----

The next morning, Kylo appeared on the bridge alone. It was early, and the only other senior staff member present was Hux himself. When he noticed the distinct lack of Rey, he raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. Kylo shook his head, warning him off the subject. He was in no mood to spar with Hux, even in their new-found understanding.

“The troops will be landing on Quell shortly. This will all be over before we know it.” Hux seemed confident and pleased, which in turned calmed Kylo. It would be over. Things would go back to normal. Soon, Rey would return and he would throw himself at her feet, and they could truly reform this galaxy together.

A little blip on the screen caught his attention, and he turned his gaze from the main windows to the computer terminal to his left. It was just one sentence, but it was enough.

The Falcon had entered Quell’s atmosphere an hour ago.

\-----

Rey held up a gloved fist, signaling the others to stop. A collection of tiny wooden huts was nestled in the valley at their feet, looking downright cheery. It would have been fit for a travel-holo if a Star Destroyer didn’t lay in pieces beside them.

She reached out with the Force, searching for the ugly energy that she now knew to belong to Master Luke. They could get in, extract him, and leave – the First Order could clean up the rest. As much as Rey wanted to see that purple-haired bitch die for Leia’s death, she knew Luke was her only priority.

She worried only a little at the Darkness that rose from that thought.

There he was – a dirty beacon in the muddy darkness surrounding him. Second hut to their right. It should be a piece of cake.

Just as Rey signaled for Poe, she heard a twig snap somewhere to her left. She froze, sensing her friends doing the same behind her. Chewie crouched to one knee, the bowcaster unslung from his shoulder.

The black-cloaked body of the Monk appeared beside her, the Heavy trailing behind him. Rey relaxed, quickly signaling her friends to stand down. She pulled off her helmet in the gathering darkness, allowing herself to speak like normal as well as confirming her identity to Reth.

They still weren’t on good terms – but there was still a part of her that was relieved to see him.

“Reth – Maker, what are you doing here? We were sure we had beaten everyone else.”

Reth yanked off his helmet, short hair mussed and sticking up at all angles. “You shouldn’t be here, Rey.” Takeshi followed suit, and the seven of them crouched together in the thicket of trees. “Kylo’s going to be furious."

“I’ll handle Kylo. I had to do this.” She raised her chin, daring him to defy her.

Reth nodded, looking back at the ragtag group to his right and tilting his head towards them. “I know these guys. I saw you two on D’Qar.”

Before Finn or Poe could speak, Rey cut in. “They’re with me.”

“Of course, princess, of course. They’re in no danger from us, relax.”

“What are you doing here, Rey?” Tak blurted out, apparently no longer able to control himself. “This whole place is going up in flames in about thirty minutes. You all need to leave – now.”

“What?” Poe barked out and was quickly shushed by the others. “What do you mean in flames. Luke is still in there!” He gestured towards the building below, eyes wide.

“He wouldn’t.” Rey was suddenly furious. Ben would never have ordered the death of his uncle knowingly – there had to be a mistake. Even he wasn’t that cold.

“That’s the orders, sister. You better scramble.”

“No – we’re getting Luke out.”

Reth sighed, running a hand over his hair. “You’ll never make it down there and back before they start firebombing this place. It’s suicide.”

“I have to try.” Rey tore her gaze away from Reth and back down the hillock to the cabin. She couldn’t let Luke die here. Not like this.

“Fine. Kylo’s going to have my ass. But we’ll help you get him out, these four need to get back to their ship and get out of here. They’ll slow us down and you know it.”

“No way – we aren’t leaving Rey here with you.” Finn was adamant, and Rose nodded as well. “We can’t trust you.”

“No, you can’t.” Reth said simply. “But she does. And it’s her choice.”

Finn looked at the masks in their hands, then back at Rey’s bare face. He was silent. Chewbacca growled, low and sad. It held no words that Rey could understand.

“Get back to the Falcon.” Rey whispered, heart breaking. “Get her in a low orbit. When the fireworks start, land half a click from here and I’ll have Luke with me. We’ll leave together. Deal?”

“No, no deal Rey. Come on, you can’t -” Poe’s voice was like a knife in her gut, and Rey turned away from him to look at Reth.

“She can, and she has.” Tak cut in angrily, in what Rey recognized as a protective tone. Tak was truly the best of the Knights.

“No more arguing. You want your Jedi master back, this is how it works. You wait five minutes once you land, and if you don’t see Rey and Luke you dust off. We’ll get them out on our ship if we have to. I assume Rey has your comm channel?”

Poe nodded sharply, staring at Reth mistrustfully but refusing to argue further.

“If we have to get her out, we’ll reach out and arrange a place to meet up. I promise.” Reth’s voice was easy and even, despite his nervous fiddling with the cartouche.

Rey exhaled, looking back at her friends. “You can trust him. I swear.”

One by one, they looked away from her. Chewbacca was the first to leave, drawing Rey into a brief embrace before he did so. She held him as tight as she could, pushing away the unimaginable thought that this was possibly goodbye forever. The others merely turned away, and Rey knew they did not understand.

But she did what she had to do. And she had to get Luke.

After a moment, they three Knights were alone in the clearing. Reth and Tak slid their masks back on, and turned toward the little huts. “Which one is Luke in, Rey?” came Tak’s gravelly tone. “We truly don’t have much time – maybe twenty minutes before the fleet begins to arrive away from the planet, slightly more before they coordinate the attack.”

“Second from the right.”

“Let’s go.” Reth slid halfway down the hill silently, the others close behind him.

Rey prayed they encountered no resistance.

So far, so good – the houses were still and quiet, with no signs of life on the outside. Inside, Rey could hear faint voices, bickering good-naturedly over something inconsequential. It pained her to know that shortly those voices would be silenced forever, even if the end of their lives meant peace for the galaxy.

The greater good must win out.

They reached the door of Luke’s hut, and Rey was relieved to see there was no exterior guard. Maker only knew what awaited them inside.

Reth jiggled the door, and found it locked tight. “Kriff – Rey, if I blast it I’ll have everyone on us before you know it. Pass me your saber, would you?”

Rey handed over her joined sabers without a thought, forgetting to remove one side in her rush to have this over with.

“Thanks, ducks.”

A flash of red, and Takeshi lay dead at her feet, a steaming hole through his chest. Rey tried to scream, but found her throat compressed tight by the unseen hand of Reth’s Force. She clawed at her skin, stars appearing in her vision as her brain struggled for oxygen.

Reth chuckled lowly, shaking his head and disengaging her saber. “Oh little lost girl, how is it you never figured it out?” He clipped her saber to his belt and fingered the cartouche again. “I thought for sure you’d seen it after our last fight. You are such a trusting thing, Maker bless you.”

Rey gagged, her vision narrowing to a tiny pinprick of light. She had been here before, she had felt this before – the throne room, the Supremacy, feeling Kylo no not Kylo _Ben_ ; feeling his struggle, feeling his pain, feeling her pain, feeling –

Nothing.


	51. Chapter 51

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Chewbacca watched the copse of trees with worried eyes. All around them destruction rained down from the heavens, great streaks of fire illuminating the sky and shaking the ground as they fell.

So far, the Falcon remained intact.

It had been four minutes.

“She’s not coming, big guy! What are you waiting for, we’re going to be another husk of a ship in this graveyard if we wait any longer!”

Chewbacca roared back that he was the pilot and he would keep waiting for Rey, but of course no one understood him but the little orange ball who was too busy screeching in alarm to translate.

Five minutes.

Troopships were landing now, masses of white-armored bodies pouring into the clearing and even further decreasing Rey’s chances of returning.

But he had to hope.

He couldn’t lose her, too.

A fireball landed directly in front of the Falcon, destroying their cover and lighting the small thicket around them on fire.

The girl was screaming, clinging to the back of his seat and accidently grabbing a fistful of his fur in her panic. It hurt, but he did not mind.

He watched the copse of trees where Rey was supposed to be, ignoring the world around him.

“Chewie, please!”

Six minutes.

“We have to go, she has the comm channel, we have to leave!”

Another blast from above, this one rocking the ship with it’s proximity. It was sheer luck they hadn’t been hit.

“Chewie!”

The copse of trees where Rey should have been was on fire.

_Go, fuzzball. Concentrate._

Chewbacca flipped the switch to release the landing gear seven minutes after he had touched the ship to the ground. The Falcon rumbled unsteadily into the atmosphere, far away from the First Order’s barrage.

\-----

“Sir, scanners are picking up a ship leaving Quell’s atmosphere – a freighter, a YT-1300 class -”

“Let it go.”

“But sir, it could be -”

“Ren, are you certain -”

“I said to let it go!” a crash, a rush of Force snapping the air, the console monitors flickering in and out.

“… Yes, sir.”

\-----

The first thing Rey could feel was the absence of Ben.

It was a raw wound in her mind, a cavernous hole that pulsed and oozed and stung and _Maker_ where was he, he should be here, where was he –

The second was that she was being held, and that one of the hands was much colder than the other.

\-----

“It’s over. The troops on the ground are reporting no survivors. They’ve found the body of Amilyn Holdo.”

“And what of Skywalker?”

“… no, sir.”

“We’d be foolish to think those four didn’t take him offplanet in that ship you let escape.”

“I have my reasons, General Hux. And besides – for a Jedi, the lack of a physical corpse means nothing. Put an alert out – I want the Falcon brought in. The ship is not to be harmed, and neither are any of it’s occupants. They are not our prisoners.”

“Ren…”

“Just do it, Armitage.”

\-----

“Rey.”

She opened bleary eyes, just a crack. She didn’t want to wake up. The world was pain – pain in her heart, pain in her head, pain in her body.

Sleep was blankness.

“Rey – you can’t give in.”

But she could.

“You’ll never get him back if you can’t wake up.”

Get who back – oh.

Ben.

The word brought back memories of a man she wished she could forget – not because she hated him, far from it. Because she loved him, and he was gone.

His absence made her head spin.

“He’s gone.” Her voice was a wheezing croak; it hurt to speak. Tears fell unbidden from her eyes, further blurring the grey-haired head that loomed over hers.

“I know, I know. But you aren’t. Not yet.”

She had no response for that. She wanted to be gone.

If this was life without Ben, she did not want it.

“It hurts. But you’re stronger than this, Rey.”

She really, really wasn’t.

“You’ve told me. You survived so much – a thousand starving nights, falling to what should have been your death and slicing your stomach open, getting lost under the midday sun, sandstorms that lasted for days. Rey, you aren’t done.”

It was then she realized who was speaking to her.

“Luke.”

“Yes – Rey, come on, open your eyes. We aren’t done.”

She felt another hot tear roll down her face. “You brought him back once.”

“… this is different.”

She knew.

“It hurts.”

She tried to think of the firelight on Ahch-To, of rainstorms, of anything that didn’t hold memories of Ben, but it seemed that all her mind wanted to bring her was his black hair, his deep eyes, the mass of scars across his face, the way his shoulders moved, the feeling of his body beside, inside, under, around hers.

Rey closed her eyes again, letting the blackness overtake her again.

\-----

“Reth.”

“Supreme Leader. We need to talk.”

“I gathered that when you refused to answer my hails – what’s going on?”

“Its Rey. Come inside the craft for a moment. I need to show you something.”

\-----

The memory of Takeshi’s body spun in Kylo’s mind, the neat circle in the middle of his chest confirmation of his death by a lightsaber.

Rey wouldn’t kill Tak.

But he was dead all the same, and the wound in his chest matched ones he knew all too well. It had been a lightsaber, there was no question. And there were only a few of those left in existence.

And Reth had told him it was Rey, with tears shining in his eyes. He wove a story of her betrayal, of stunning him and killing Takeshi when he tried to stop her from rescuing their former master.

He told him that Rey and Luke were in the wind, that they had escaped on the Falcon despite Reth’s best efforts to stop them.

That if Luke was still out there, the bombings would continue.

He’d sent Reth back out with instructions to bring them back alive at any costs. He had obeyed gladly, taking Ferris and Serin along with him. Kylo had not forgotten the steadying squeeze Reth had given his arm before returning up the gangplank of his ship.

Takeshi lay somewhere in the underbelly of the Supremacy, still and cold and dead.

Kylo lay in the middle of Rey’s bed, counting the plants on the ceiling. He brushed against their link and found it strangely cold.

Slowly, by degrees, hope fled.

\-----

“Is she still not awake yet?”

“No, and don’t you dare -”

A zap in her brain, and Rey shot awake screaming. Luke’s hand tightened on her shoulder, grounding her as the memories returned in a boomerang snap.

Tak was dead. Ben was gone. Reth had betrayed them all.

Reality was a nightmare.

Reth knelt before her, a wolfish leer on his twisted face. Mustering up all her hate, she spat at him, the gobbet landing solidly on his cheek.

He neither flinched, nor made a move to wipe it away.

“Good morning, sunshine. It’s lovely to see you’re in such a peachy mood today.”

“Fuck you, Gareth Ren. Fuck you with your own blaster all the way to hell.” Luke’s fingers tightened on her shoulder again, and she felt the old man ready himself to react.

“Language, darling.” Reth tutted, shifting to sit tailor-fashion on the ground before her. “I’m surprised, though. No ‘where are we’, ‘why did you betray us’, or ‘who are you’ questions? The last one is my favorite, really. Go on, indulge yourself, I’m feeling particularly expository today.”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh fine, I’ll just tell you. I’m really disappointed in you, sweetheart, I know for a fact you’re smarter than this. Jakku would have eaten you alive if you were this trusting then. I suppose taking you out of your element was just too much for you.”

“Fuck -” But Rey found herself unable to speak, a light hold on her throat preventing words from escaping.

“Now it’s just getting tiresome, and I do want to have some fun today.”

Luke’s fingers were going to leave bruises.

“Let me give you the basics. I’m sure you’ve guessed by how cold you are that we’re somewhere in space – bingo. You’re also nowhere comfortable so you’re in the cargo hold of a ship – also bingo. Why did I betray you? I didn’t betray you. I’ve been using you since the first time you laid eyes on Ben Solo. Or Kylo Ren, whichever you prefer to call him. My young apprentice.”

The hold around her neck loosened, and Rey coughed for air before creaking out a strangled “… what?”

Reth rolled his eyes, fingering the cartouche around his neck. “I’ve been in your head since Takodana, you precious girl. I’ve seen everything. I forged the connection between you and that dark prince you love so much. I manipulated it to suit my interests. I let it grow but you two – Maker, I couldn’t have picked a better mate for him. It’s really quite something now. I really thought we were going to lose you when I yanked it apart, he’s become so much a part of you. Its really taught me quite a lot.”

“Fuck you, Reth, that was Snoke and he’s -”

“Right here? Guilty as charged.” He twiddled the cartouche around in a circle, smirking.

Rey’s blood froze in her veins. “That’s not possible.”

“Isn’t it, though? Mysteries of the Force, my dear. I’ve known Reth’s mental prowess nearly matched mine years ago when he and little Ben Solo first showed up. I kept the idea in the back of my mind for years, and when your little boyfriend finally released me from my frail body – I’ve got to thank him for that, by the by – I found Reth and here we are together.”

Rey felt sick. “Is Reth – where is Reth?”

“Oh, he’s still alive, if that’s what you’re worried about. I wouldn’t be, though. He’s still a twisted evil little bastard in his own right. We sort of… share this space.” The man before her paused for a moment, as if thinking. “He’s awfully fond of you, you know. It’s a large part of the reason why you’re not dead right now. Especially after you failed to fully embrace the Darkness – and we did try to nudge you that way. It would have been such fun. But now… captured or deceased, it suited my future plans just the same.”

“What plans?” This time it was Luke who spoke, jolting Rey back from the spiral she found herself in.

“In time, old man, in time. I thank you for your service so far.”

“It wasn’t voluntary, and you know it.”

“Ah, but you still did it. And all for her. Rey, my darling girl, if you only had any idea what lengths the men in your life are willing to go through for you…” the creature trailed off, leering unpleasantly. “Even now, Kylo’s scouring the galaxy for you. He’ll never find you, though. Not till I’m ready for him to find you. And I haven’t quite decided how that will play out.”

“Is he…”

“Unhurt? Fine? Alright? Safe?” The words were mocking, and Rey grew even angrier. “Physically, absolutely. I’ve merely closed his side of the link, I didn’t unroot it like yours. All he feels is cold. Oh – and heartbreak. He feels that, too.”

The creature that was once Reth stood, dusting off the knees of his pants. “And I’m afraid that’s all for now. Lots to do, you know. Schedules to keep, galaxies to run. I’ll be back.”

Before Rey could react, she felt herself ripped from Luke’s grasp and floating through the air towards Reth, immobilized and hovering a few inches from the ground. She was eye level with him, staring deep into his soulless gaze. A gloved hand grasped her chin, thumb smoothing down the line of her a jaw in a possessive gesture. A disgusting smirk, and he released her sharply, Rey’s hip slamming into the ground with a painful whack.

A small door opened, flooding the room with light. It slammed shut in short order, a locking mechanism and several bolts clicking into place as it did so.

Rey stared, feeling the throbbing in her hip in time with the throbbing in her head. She twisted, looking back at Luke with his grey hair and yellowed eyes and metal hand hanging limply at his side. He was walking towards her with his good hand extended to pull her to her feet.

She accepted his help wordlessly, still feeling woozy. But now, the despair had turned into anger.

Anger she could use. Anger was helpful.

She let her anger burn, flowing through her body to replace the ache in her head, the hole in her heart, the pain in her belly. The Dark chuckled, the Light rose in her.

She was not powerless. She had the Force.

Ben’s absence cut a hole through her middle, a dull ache that refused to abate. But her anger propelled her where hopelessness threatened to drag her down.

She was coming for him.

Rey looked steadily into Luke’s eyes, grasping for hope in the little flecks of blue she could still see in them. Not all was lost. She had pulled Ben Solo from the brink, and she was damned if she was going to let Luke fall over the side when she could stop it.

Together, they could stop this. But only together.

“You’re going to have to let me fix your hand if you want to get out of here.”

Luke looked from her to his metal hand, consternation furrowing his brow. But he did not stop her when she gripped his wrist, turning his hand over to find the access panel.


	52. Chapter 52

 

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

“Maker, Luke, you’ve really let this thing go to hell, haven’t you?”

It had been some time since the man she had once considered her friend locked them in this freezing cargo hold. Rey wasn’t sure exactly how long, since the only lights in the hold were artificial ones. There was surely no pleasant day/night cycle like on the Supremacy.

She tried to resist the urge to prod the half-healed wound where her link had once lived, in fear of undamming the river of Ben and losing herself once more. The off-kilter sense of the Force kept giving her the sensation of floating in a deep river, and she was struggling to keep herself from the bottom.

She had been working on Luke’s hand for what might have been an hour, but could have been longer. It was taking far longer to fix than was likely strictly necessary, due in part to both a lack of proper tools and the sorry state the mechanical appendage was in. A black mark across the wrist set Rey to frowning, looking at the jagged edges of a hole burned into the back of his hand. “Is that carbon scoring?” _How had she not noticed that before?_

“It’s an old one. Don’t worry about it.” Even these short words gave Rey a start – Luke was mostly refusing to say anything to her as she worked. Even with her sense of Force horribly muddled compared to the bright-clear snap she was accustomed to, it was not hard to see that the Jedi was keeping something from her.

Rey sat back on her heels, wiping her forehead with the heel of her palm. It felt odd to be sweaty in the cold of space, but Rey chalked it up to concentration.

Luke looked anywhere but at her.

The tiny tingle of Force in her spine told her she was right to want answers from him.

“Am I going to have to drag it out of you? I know, Luke. I already know you have something to do with the strange weapon Holdo’s people were using. We captured one. I don’t have to see that thing’s guts in order to know that the tremors in the Force around it and you are the same. Start talking.” Rey’s tone was harsh, but this was not the time for gentle words.

Takeshi was dead. Reth was… a monster. Ben was in trouble.

The galaxy was in trouble.

Rey didn’t have the luxury of sparing Luke’s feelings this time.

Luke deflated, sinking in on himself and looking every one of his years. “Yes. It’s true. I helped design the devices. And I’m… paying for it.” He gestured at his eyes with his natural hand.

“Why?”

“I had no other choice. First, it was for Leia. Then, it was for you.”

“Me -”

“Yes. You.”

“Bloody _fucking hell_ , Luke, you don’t get to use me as justification for the murder of -”

Luke’s face twisted as he exploded from defeat into fury, his rage flickering the lights and sending crackles of electricity down the wall beside him. “You don’t understand. My sister knew. My sister saw. She told me – the last thing she ever told me was to protect you.”

Rey flinched, remembering Leia’s last words to her had held the same charge.

Simmering, Luke continued in a low rumble. “There is something you’ve yet to do, something important, and I don’t even know what. And they told me over and over again that there was a knife to your throat and if I made one mistake – just one – that they’d throw your lifeless body at my feet and we’d rot together. And now I know for a fact that they could have done that, easily and quickly. I regret the deaths the design has caused, and I’ll carry them with me for the rest of my life. But don’t think for a moment that I regret protecting you.”

There were no possible words to justify the evil he had done, the lives he had taken. But right now, Rey couldn’t correct the wrongs he had done. Leaving Luke here, in the sterile prison of this cargo hold, wouldn’t bring back the people he had killed. But, if she got them out... perhaps facing justice for his actions would help the galaxy heal. Perhaps he could atone, in the eyes of the Force. 

Rey stared, watching Luke’s yellow eyes in his hollow face and tried to imagine what his life had been like for the past year.

When she spoke again, her words were softer.

“The last thing Leia said to me was much the same. I saw her, you know. Before. The same way I saw you.”

Leia’s dirt-streaked face drifted through her memories, triumphant and at peace.

“Ben did, too.” It felt important, somehow, that Luke knew that.

They sat in silence while Rey prodded another gear back into place, frowning at the worn-down teeth. It would not take much for Luke’s hand to completely break down on him. This was far beyond her experience – not to mention the lack of proper tools severely crippled her ability to do anything other than extremely basic repairs. Fingernails did not make good screw-picks.

She chewed on her lip, pondering releasing her next question into the world. _Fuck it. What else do I possibly have to lose?_

“Why couldn’t I see you? In the Force, I mean. I looked for you nearly every day.”

“I know.” Luke’s voice was full of regret.

“What do you mean, you know?”

“I heard you every time.”

Rey stopped her work again, staring at Luke with an open mouth and hurt in her eyes. “Then why the hell didn’t you say something? Why wouldn’t you warn me, at the very least?”

“What would that have done, truly? If I warned you, what would you have done? You would have been out here in a heartbeat and the result would have been the same. I was always the bait to lure you away from Ben. Better for you to think I was beyond your reach.”

Rey’s stomach lurched at the mention of his name, but the dam held. She released Luke’s hand, scooting back to lean against the nearby wall with a heavy thump. “It worked.”

“What worked?”

“Once I knew where you were… I couldn’t leave it alone. Ben -” a shot of pain through her temple, but she pushed it away “- he told me not to come. Forbid it. He wanted the First Order’s troops to handle this operation exclusively. But I couldn’t accept it. So I… left.”

Luke looked at her benignly, neither admonishing or encouraging her to continue. She chose to, regardless.

“I came charging down here to rescue you with Poe and Chewie and… everyone. And then I ran into Reth and Tak… and I sent the others away without a thought. And I followed Reth to your door…” The thought of Takeshi’s lifeless body swallowed the rest of her words.

Luke’s ever-present frown deepened. “Rey, exactly how close were you with Gareth?”

“How do you mean?”

“Has he been inside your head?”

Suddenly, her mouth was too dry to answer.

Luke exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “That’s what I was afraid of. Even as a child, Gareth was highly skilled in mental manipulation.”

Rey dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands, knowing crescents of blood would be welling there before too long. She needed the pain. Her world was spiraling out of control.

“I’ve seen it. He tried – he tried to teach me… I got the basics, but I was never…”

Luke shushed her with a wave of his natural hand. “Rey, the number of beings in this galaxy as skilled at that particular method of mind tricks can likely be counted on one hand. Don’t blame yourself.”

She did, regardless. She had been manipulated almost from the start.

But right now what worried her more were the lies that he was whispering to Ben.

“Maker – Luke, we’ve got to get out of here. There’s no telling what that creature has planned.”

“No time like the present.”

Rey was not fond of the resignation in Luke’s voice. Pushing her doubts away, she let the anger in her belly fester once more. It licked up the walls of her hollow chest, filling the space where Ben had once dwelled.

He would again, if Rey had anything to say about it.

\-----

The galaxy was in uproar, a joyous riot over the defeat of Holdo’s faction at last. In this jubilation, and against Hux’s better judgment, Kylo had unveiled the legislation abolishing slavery.

The General had tried to coax him to wait for Rey, at the very least. And Kylo did want to wait for Rey – but in his gut, the timing seemed right.

He had no idea what to do without her. But he had to try.

It had been met with overwhelming support, former senators and persons of power from all over the reaches falling over themselves to endorse it and praise the Supreme Leader turned Galactic Emperor. Oh, there were grumblings to be sure – from the planets where slavery comprised much of their economy, from the lowlifes and shysters who benefited from the flesh trade. There would be trouble, of course.

But the galaxy was in their pocket for now.

Kylo had meant for it to be a beacon for Rey, to bring her home. To show her that nothing had changed and their plans were finally coming to fruition. From the beginning, it had all been for her.

But it had been nearly two days since he first walked into their empty room, and still there was no word. No sign of the Falcon, though they were scouring the galaxy for the blasted ship. No sign of Rey herself, though he had his three most trusted men searching for her with their considerable resources.

The media was beginning to notice, and more than anything Kylo was dreading the articles asking where the Grey Lady was hiding.

Well, perhaps he was dreading facing another lonely night alone slightly more.

He stared at the bed they had shared for what truly amounted to only a few weeks but felt like a lifetime. It had been a lifetime, in their minds.

Rey had surely crammed more love into a year than he had felt in his entire lifetime, even when he hadn’t deserved it.

And oh, how he regretted his reticence, his stumbling missteps, the words that had driven her away instead of closer to him.

If he had it to do over again, he would have drawn her into his arms and never let her go. He would have stayed those late nights when she had asked him not to leave. He’d been afraid, and he had wasted time.

But there was nothing to be done for that now. He’d done it this time, pushed her into a corner and found her breaking point. He’d underestimated her devotion for his uncle, and in obfuscating the truth of his motivations Kylo had managed to force her into extremes. He’d only been trying to protect her.

He wondered if Rey knew he had ordered his uncle’s death.

He wondered if that was why Takeshi was now dead.

He wondered if Rey truly had been the one to kill him.

Above all else, he wondered _why_.

He paused again in the open doorway, wondering if the pain in his chest would be better or worse fifteen steps down the hallway in his own sterile rooms, devoid of Rey’s plants or her scent or the Jedi texts still sitting on her dresser next to that gorram red flower. The bottle of Whyren’s Reserve caught his eye from it’s perch on the high shelf, sitting innocuously but striking him like a lightening bolt through the gut all the same.

It was mostly empty, now.

With a wave of his fingers, Kylo summoned the bottle to his open palm, the golden brown liquid sloshing up the sides as it connected. A folded up square of paper fell to the floor beside the dresser, largely escaping his notice. Kylo popped the cork with a flick of his thumb, he took a long swig before half-collapsing on the bed.

Rey’s side of the bed.

Another drink, and he had toed off his boots, stretching across the bed otherwise fully clothed. Kylo counted the plants on the ceiling, trying not to think of how the pillow still smelled of a forest.

Seventeen. J2 had added another this morning.

Another drink.

Kylo closed his eyes, trying to remember how it felt to have her small body beside his. Just a memory, just enough to sleep. That’s all he wanted.

He wanted to feel something other than the frozen spot in his mind where her light used to warm him.

Another drink, and there was just enough left for two shots.

In a fit of sentimentality, Kylo recorked the bottle and set it on the dresser. When Rey came back…

If she came back.

The room spun, and Kylo turned on his side. The Millaflower swirled and twisted in his vision, and his closed his eyes despite the lurching in his stomach. He fell asleep clutching a pillow to his chest, his nose buried in the scent of her.

\-----

There was an insistent, annoying voice buzzing in his head. Kylo did his best to bat it away and return to the dreamscape, which had been a mercifully pleasant one. The details were fuzzy now, the edges blurring back into the static of his mind, but he remembered Rey’s small hands on his face as if they had been branded there.

Perhaps they had been.

The voice was forming into words now, said in a cajoling and vaguely irritated tone. The haze of alcohol and the grogginess of sleep did nothing for his ability to translate them, and reluctantly Kylo let the ethereal memory of Rey fade back into his mind as the gears started turning toward wakefulness.

Opening his eyes blearily, he shot awake with a start at the figure of an exasperated man sitting on the end of his bed.

“Took you long enough. I was taking bets with Obi-Wan. He lost – I didn’t have to start shouting after all.”

Kylo half rolled out of bed, summoning his lightsaber with an outstretched hand.

The man rolled his eyes, not moving from his position at the foot of the bedcovers. “That’s not going to do you a lot of good, son. Might as well listen to what I have to say.”

Heaving himself to his feet, Kylo held the disengaged hilt in his right hand and blinked his eyes a few times to clear them. It was then that he noticed the sickly blue tinge of the man’s body, and something clicked into place.

No, the lightsaber wouldn’t do much good at all. He refused to toss it away and admit the weakness, however.

“Who are you?” A sleep-roughed grumble, not the imposing growl he had intended. Surely his hair was up at all angles, as well. Kylo was not operating at peak efficiency, that was for certain.

The man scoffed, the hint of a teasing smirk tugging the right side of his mouth upward. “Show some respect to your elders, son. I’m your grandfather.”


	53. Chapter 53

 

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Rey leaned against the hatchway to the rest of the ship, listening for footfalls beyond. So far, nothing had met her ears. Still feeling shaky and unsure in her abilities, she reached out tentatively with the Force. The strange power leapt to her as it always had, but the flush of raw strength she expected never came.

She still felt underwater.

Bullishly undeterred, Rey closed her eyes and searched with her intuition for the locks that held them in. There were three that she could sense – an electronic lock and two plain physical bolts. Those would prove no trouble – Rey felt sure she could move them in an instant.

So she tried – and failed. She only managed the barest tremble of the metal before the sheer strain was too much. Rey dropped her connection, stumbling back from the door to knock against Luke. He managed to keep her from the floor, but only just.

“Rey – what’s wrong?” His grey eyebrows furrowed, and he looked between her and the door in consternation.

“I can’t – I can’t undo the locks.”

“That’s not entirely surprising; we are prisoners, you know.” Luke said dryly, arching an eyebrow and looking at her askance.

“No, I mean – Luke, I can’t even move a simple deadbolt. I’ve done trickier lifts than that in my sleep.”

Rey chewed her lip, casting her eyes around the empty space for something to call to her. There was not much, but she did notice a broken-down chair in the far corner. She raised her hand, knowing in her heart of hearts that the chair should come sailing through the air to her as if it was tugged on a string.

But it barely stirred.

She lowered her hand, gasping with the effort. The room spun, and the taste of bitter liquor filled her mouth.

Luke was beside her in an instant, calling her name in a voice that sounded impossibly far away. Rey sank to her knees, clutching her head in her hands. A garbled scream rang in her ears – one she foggily recognized as her own.

\-----

Kylo swallowed the lump that had grown inside his throat and studied the robed figure of the ghost at the foot of his bed. He was young – perhaps even younger than Kylo was now. He could see shades of his uncle’s features in the man’s blue-tinted face, but Kylo stubbornly clung to his denial.

“That’s not possible.”

The man chuckled wryly, his mother’s eyes crinkling. “Mysteries of the Force, son.”

“Don’t call me son.”

“My apologies, is grandson better?” The words fairly dripped with sarcasm.

Kylo huffed angrily, finally shrugging off the tangled bedsheet and taking a step closer to the specter. His supposed grandfather didn’t even flinch, merely crossing his arms and adopting an expression of boredom. It angered him irrationally.

“If you’re my grandfather, prove it.”

Now the man rolled his eyes. “What are you, six?”

“Prove it.”

“The last thing I saw before I died was your uncle’s face, with my own eyes.”

“Not good enough.”

“I froze your father in carbonite on Bespin. Your _Unca Wanwo_ helped. My daughter had to be held back by that Wookie to keep from going to him.”

“Keep trying.”

“You used to see a woman with flowers in her hair after your nightmares.”

At this, Kylo faltered. He’d told no one about that woman, not even his own mother.

The man cracked a smile. “Got you that time, son.”

Kylo took another step forward, anger rising in his empty chest. “Lucky guess.”

“No. No luck. Only the Force. That woman is my own good angel. Your grandmother.”

A whisper in the still air brought him the name Padme, and Kylo stilled. He’d heard his own mother refer to her in hushed murmurs. It was not even half as often as she had spoken of Breha, but it was enough.

He tossed the hilt to the floor, uncertain how to react.

Anger came to him first.

“All the years – the _years_ that I begged for you to hear me. To help me. But you ignored me, like everyone else had. Why choose now - to taunt me?” The knowledge that his pleas for help had gone unheeded by yet another person stung bitterly.

At this, his grandfather – Anakin, Kylo reminded himself, his name was Anakin – had the good grace to look ashamed. “My boy, it wasn’t my choice.”

“Don’t call me boy.”

“I’m sorry, Ben, you’re right. That would have irritated me too.” Anakin’s tone was no longer challenging, but placating.

But his given name was like a knife through his chest, a sharp stab that reminded him of Rey’s absence. It was she that had brought Ben back from the dead, and he was not Ben when she was gone.

At Kylo’s visible wince, Anakin frowned. “That doesn’t seem much better.”

A pause. Kylo swallowed. “Boy is fine.”

Anakin nodded, accepting and dismissing the topic. “As I said – it wasn’t my choice. I watched you – Maker, I watched you make all of my mistakes. And I was screaming for you to stop, but I couldn’t get to you. But now, there’s a gate down, and I had a chance. I’d had a window once before, and I took it. I’m glad I did, but you never saw me.”

Kylo sat awkwardly on the bed, no longer comfortable with looming over the blue-tinged figure. As he got closer, he noticed the scar bisecting his grandfather’s cheek. It almost mirrored the one Rey had given him nearly two years ago in the snow. “When? When  - Maker. If I had known…” Kylo trailed off, kicking himself for being so oblivious.

Anakin chuckled kindly, seeming much older than he looked. “You were… a little distracted. As I recall, there was a girl and a new lightsaber. You seemed happy.”

Kylo looked down at his hands. “I was.”

“She’s gone, isn’t she.” It was a statement, and not a question. Anyone with half a brain knew that it was the middle of the night and that if Rey were still there she would have been beside Kylo, sprawled over the mattress in her ungraceful, snoring sleep.

“Yes. She is.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

Kylo looked up again with a start, narrowing his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“She left me. It’s on her to come back. I won’t force her.” Rey’s words about being kept a prisoner were burned into his brain. She was free to leave. She always had been.

Anakin shook his head, shoulder-length hair moving slightly as he did so. “No. Son, there’s something else in play here – I can’t tell what, not even from where I sit. But there’s something coming. Something big. And you’re both tangled up in all. All I can see around you is a lie, but I can’t tell you where it’s stemming from - I can’t see it.”

His grandfather looked away for a moment, as if listening to something unseen. When Anakin turned back to him, there was sadness in his eyes. Kylo knew his time was up.

“Son, if there’s one thing that I can pass on to you its to listen to the ones who love you. I didn’t. And I paid for it dearly. I won’t pretend to have insider knowledge into your relationship with this girl, but anyone with two eyes can see that she loves you fiercely. That sort of love just doesn’t go away. You have to think about what drove her away – and think about why she may not be coming back to you. Listen to that and nothing else.”

Kylo hung his head, the old familiar feeling of disappointment rising in his chest. “Grandfather, I am what drove her away.”

Anakin shook his head again, smiling a little sadly. The edges of him were beginning to blur, the apparition fading back into the ether. “Be that as it may - but son, you are not what’s keeping her away.”

\-----

Rey stumbled woozily down the hallway of the ship, holding a broken chairleg in her right hand. Luke was to her left, peering around the corner before they skulked further down the hallway.

So far the ship was empty.

It had been all too easy.

It had taken some time for Rey to come fully back to herself, and when she had Luke had already managed to undo the deadbolts and was busying himself with the electronic lock. It hadn’t taken him long, even without her help. It was the work of less than an hour total to free them from the cargo hold, and as they paused in the open doorway they had exchanged a look full of meaning. If Reth was making it this easy for them to escape, there was some reason for it. He was powerful enough, both in strength and in political clout, to keep them hidden for years if he had desired.

If they escaped, it was because they were let go. And Rey wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Regardless, there was not much choice in the matter but to keep moving forward. Rey continued making her way down the corridor, confused at the lack of others on the ship. With the Force largely out of her grasp for the moment, she focused on remembering the way her staff had felt. Worn smooth by her grip, taller than she had been. Cool and solid. Balanced.

The chairleg was nothing like her staff had been, but it was all she had for now.

They walked down another empty hallway, the unease in Rey’s stomach doubling.

\-----

Kylo stared at the end of the bed for what felt like an eternity after the blue-tinted figure finally faded away into nothingness. He tried to convince himself that it hadn’t been real, that he had conjured up the ghost in a fever-dream. Surely it had not been Anakin Skywalker, the man who had become the feared Darth Vader. Now, Kylo shuddered to think he had once wanted to become the very thing despised across the galaxy for decades. The burned husk of the helmet in his quarters was a millstone around his neck, no longer a touchstone for his misplaced fervor.

The knowledge that his grandfather had not willingly ignored his cries sat heavy in his stomach.

Even before Rey, there had been someone who wanted to help. Perhaps there had been others, and he had simply not recognized them.

It was a weighty thought in a lonely hour.

It was still the small hours of the morning, but Kylo knew sleep would not return to him tonight. He dressed quickly, opting to head back up to the bridge as a distraction.

Maybe there was news of Rey, or the Falcon.

As the lift sped him upwards, Kylo turned his grandfather’s words over and over in his mind. To his chagrin, he hadn’t even considered the fact that Rey hadn’t returned because she was unable.

The coldness in his mind where her warmth once lived was doubly concerning, and the dull ache in his hollow chest threatened to choke him.

When Kylo emerged onto to the bridge, Hux turned to catch his eye. The man seemed omnipresent on the bridge of late – did he never sleep? He certainly didn’t look tired.

“Supreme Leader, a word.” There was no external anxiety in his tone, but something about the way the words tumbled out made Kylo worry. He nodded tightly, turning to follow the general into the small conference room without missing a beat.

The three rebels and Chewbacca sat there again, looking decidedly worse for the wear. That sinking feeling in his stomach turned to lead, and he rounded on Hux.

“I thought I ordered the Falcon to be brought back unharmed.” There was more anger in his tone than he intended, and he felt the old familiar patterns of his rage lick up his backbone.

Poe spoke before Hux had a chance to. “Back off Space Cadet, this time it wasn’t your boys. We just came to make sure Rey made it back with Luke.”

 _Rey – the fuck?_ “She was with you.”

Poe frowned. “She isn’t here? She may have snuck off with us, but she didn’t leave Quell with us.”

The girl – Rose, now sporting a half-scabbed cut over her left eye – shook her head sadly. “No, she left us behind, went off with two men she seemed to know. Wearing masks. We were supposed to rendezvous with her once they had Luke, but…”

Chewbacca roared, gesturing wildly towards the ceiling. _“I waited. I waited longer than we had said. But Sunbeam did not come. We could not wait any longer.”_

Finn piped in, looking uncomfortable. “She had our comm channel – she was supposed to contact us after she got out with the two others on their ship if they couldn’t make it back to us. But she never did. So we made our way back here.” A shudder at the word _here_ – the former stormtrooper was not a fan, it seemed. “Because we didn’t know what else to do.”

Kylo’s frown deepened. Something wasn’t adding up. Reth had said Rey and Luke had escaped on the Falcon – but clearly she wasn’t with them. Or was she? A headache began building behind his eyes, Anakin’s words ringing in his ears. Listen to the ones who love you. None of these people cared what happened to him – well, excepting perhaps Chewbacca, but that a shaky proposition at best.

Reth was his oldest friend. Kylo knew him inside and out. Even if he was a complete ass, he wouldn’t have lied to him about something like Rey – Reth was fond of her as well. Kylo had seen the pain of regret in eyes as they stood over Takeshi’s body. But the memory of Reth threatening Rey on the transport to Hays Minor chose that moment to resurface, faltering his convictions.

Kylo hadn’t realized he was pacing the room till he stopped, all attention on him. The earnest hope and concern in the eyes of Rey’s friends gave him further pause.

Perhaps they did not care about him – but they still cared for Rey. He couldn’t feel any guile here.

So who did he believe?

Without a further word to the occupants of the room, Kylo turned on his heel and stomped off, motioning for Hux to follow him. Once safely outside the closed door, a wave of his hand brought two troopers’ attention to the closed entrance as he continued walking to a nearby corridor.

Kylo tried to forget that this was the same corridor Rey had dragged him into just over two days ago.

Hux stood at awkward attention, trying and failing not to look completely bewildered. “Ren, what’s going on – you told me Rey was off on business of your own choosing…”

Kylo ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Well, I lied.”

“No _shit_ , Ren.” Now, Hux looked tired. Now, he looked worried.

“Not now, Armitage. Just – not now. Something’s wrong. I don’t know what – but something. According to what I know, Rey should have been with them. But I don’t think they’re lying, either. Keep them here, but keep them comfortable. They are not our prisoners. Have the Falcon searched stem to stern – and I do mean it, there are a thousand places something could hide on that boat, it’s a smuggler’s ship after all. I’m going to try and run down another angle.” 

Hux frowned. “Ren, you have easily a thousand other concerns, let your Knights find wherever Rey has run off to. You can’t go chasing your girlfriend across the galaxy because she’s gotten a bit pissy.”

“A bit pissy? Do you hear yourself, Hux?” _Don’t give into that anger, don’t let it swallow you, it’s not productive._

Sighing heavily, Hux continued. “The media’s going to have a field day once they realize she’s run off. Give your goons a bit more time. If there’s no word by tomorrow, I’ll find some excuse for you and you can run off to Wild Space if you have to. But right now, we’re standing in a powder keg and one false move is going to send us sky-high. Help me manage this. We’ve got the galaxy halfway in our pocket, but one upset is going to tip them right back out. If we don’t have Rey, we need you. The people cannot think this is a rudderless ship.”

Damn Hux, but he was right. Kylo sighed, relenting. “Fine. No more than 24 hours with no further word.”

“Then, you can fuck off wherever you feel like you have to. But give me some more time.”

Nodding curtly in an effort to be done with this conversation, Kylo stepped past Hux to reemerge into the well-lit hallway. He took three steps toward the bridge with Hux close behind him before abruptly turning on his heel and stalking back into the small conference room.

Maybe he couldn’t leave – but he wasn’t going to sit idly around waiting for something to happen, either.

Kylo ignored Hux’s indignant yelp, slamming the door shut with a whoosh. The three humans jumped, and the Wookiee lowed churlishly.

A wave of his fingers, and the three security cameras in the room were ripped from their brackets, twisting and crumbling in on themselves in midair. Their metal corpses landed in a pile on the table, and Kylo placed his large hands beside them before leaning forward to snarl at the assembled former rebels. His heavy overcloak gaped open, revealing the hilt of his lightsaber.

“You’re going to tell me exactly what happened from the moment you stepped out of this room the last time. You’re not going to leave out a single detail. If Rey so much as _breathed_ in a manner that seemed strange, I want to know about it. I can take whatever I want from you, I assure you, but it’s going to be much more pleasant if you just cooperate.”

Rose, out of all of them, had the temerity to roll her eyes. Kylo almost blinked in surprise but redoubled his efforts to look menacing instead. The little mechanic was nonplussed, leaning forward slightly as if in an attempt to match his posture. Damn her impertinence, but she was smiling as she spoke. “And here I thought you’d never ask.”


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends, my apologies for the long delay on this chapter. My parrot unexpectedly passed away last week, and much of my writing was done sitting next to her cage and listening to her quiet grumbles. The silence has made it hard to think.

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Kylo sat quietly through Rose’s detail-driven download, asking questions here and there but mostly letting the observant girl speak her mind. The amount of detail she had noticed in the relatively short time she and Rey had been together was impressive.

Honestly, the earnest mechanic would have made a very good spy.

“… I knew once the blonde haired one had said the strike was coming, Rey wasn’t going to come with us. You could see it in her eyes.”

Kylo flinched visibly, causing Poe’s gaze to narrow. And there it was – Rey had known he had no intention of sparing Luke, though he doubted very seriously that she knew exactly why. _Congratulations Kylo, you played yourself._ The impulse to put his head into his hands was strong.                                    

Instead, he listened to Rose as she continued down the winding path of the events following their split from Rey. He listened as she recounted the fire raining down around the Falcon, how the grove of trees where Rey should have been waiting had been swallowed by flames. The agonizing day they had spent watching the planet, waiting for their comm channel to light up. Waiting for her to come back.

And then, they were here.

Rose rested her hands on the table, palm up. “So we came back here. We had nowhere else to go.”

Chewbacca lowed sadly, watching the stars through the window to his left. It wasn’t entirely true, Kylo reflected. They could have gone anywhere, any far corner of the galaxy. They didn’t owe him anything. They didn’t owe Rey anything.

But they had brought themselves back into the hands of their former enemy, out of concern for her.

That was the moment that Kylo knew he had to confront Reth. By accident or design, the Monk had left something out of his retelling of the events leading up to the death of Takeshi. His grandfather’s words bit at him, reminding him to listen to the ones who loved him.

These four didn’t love him. No, the love he was listening to was not for him, it never was. This love was for Rey. If he was sure of nothing else, he was sure that these four cared for her.

And because of that he knew someone, somewhere, was lying.

At last, Rose fell silent, looking expectantly up at Kylo with honest eyes.

And he knew what he had to do.

Kylo stood quickly, pushing back from the table and turning for the door without another word. The rebels stood as well, a chorus of confusion accompanying him to the door. He didn’t hesitate, reasoning that he owed them no explanation except for the truth. He himself didn’t even know exactly what that entailed, but he aimed to find out.

Kylo would return only with answers.

Before he could make it much further than the threshold, a furry paw grabbed his shoulder roughly and shoved him through the door entirely with warm bulk at his back. The surprised stormtroopers in the hallway turned to face them, weapons trained on the Wookiee who was holding the Emperor in an iron grip.

Chewbacca roared, gesturing with his free hand. _“I mean him no harm,”_ he said, though Kylo knew none of the troopers would be able to translate. He raised his own hands instead, willing the troopers to act with their brains instead of their training.

“Stand down. He’s no threat.”

Mercifully, the stormtroopers listened, their rifles clicking back to standby as they were lowered beside white-clad thighs. Chewbacca chuckled, probably the most disarming noise in the Wookiee’s vast arsenal. It was the most human sound he could make.

Kylo turned to face him, knowing in that instant that he did owe the furry alien an explanation. Several explanations, honestly. A lifetime’s worth.

“Walk with me, Chewbacca.”

_“I thought you would never ask.”_

They set off down the hallway, Kylo wondering exactly what his destination was – or what, exactly, he would end up telling the old Wookiee.

\-----

Rey continued her silent walk through the corridors of the ship, no longer bothering with stealth. They’d been wandering the hallways for what felt like hours, encountering not one single soul. No human, alien, or droid crossed their paths. No signage to guide them. Just sterile hallways, empty and devoid of life. Time itself felt distorted.

Luke looked even more wan and wary than before.

The whole situation left a rotten tasting her mouth, her already shaky limbs nearly trembling with anxious energy. This entire state of affairs smelled off. There was something they were meant to find – some part they were intended to stumble into in Snoke’s grand master plan.

Rey didn’t intend to become another cog in this war machine.

But there was so much yet she did not understand. After another set of doors with no signs of life, she finally voiced a question that had been nagging her for a year.

“Why Holdo?”

Luke paused only for a heartbeat, not looking in her direction but continuing to plod along the path he had set for himself. Rey followed after a moment, boots thudding on the durasteel plates beneath her feet.

The ship surely felt expensive, if nothing else.

“She was a convenient scapegoat, I would assume. A fanatic with a crazed ‘grand plan’ to bring the galaxy to heel.”

“What plan?”

This time, Luke stopped short. He ran a hand over his unkempt beard, barking out a short laugh. “You know… I don’t think she ever even said.” He tugged on the grey strands, shaking his head. “She was crazier than a mynock on spice. Those who followed her… I can’t explain it. Duty or fanaticism or something else. Nothing rational, I assure you.”

Rey wondered if Reth had something to do with it… or perhaps it was Snoke.

How entwined were the two of them, after all? The white cartouche ever-present around Reth’s neck had something to do with his connection to the former gold-lame’ wearing snake, she felt sure. A nudge of her Force kept pushing it into the forefront of her mind. It was important… she could tell.

Perhaps…

But Luke had set off down the hallway without her, and she quickened her steps to catch him. Another empty dogleg, but before them a new sort of door.

Rey nudged past the Jedi, placing her hand on the palm scanner by the door. It, of course, denied her entrance. With a shrug, she knelt to the floor. The access panel was easy to spot, and it would be the work of moments to gain access.

Luke hovered silently behind her, watching intently as she settled in tailor-fashion to make sense of the maze of wires behind the steel plate. It almost felt as if he were watching their backs, but it was a useless gesture at best.

She knew they were the only ones aboard. But if what was behind this door was what she had thought… perhaps they could get some answers. Yelping as electric current singed her fingers, she reconnected the two live wires and was rewarded with the door sliding open. Throwing her chairleg into the gap before it had a chance to slide shut, Rey gestured Luke inside the room and scrambled in behind him ungracefully.

Sliding on the slick floor, she came to a stop beside Luke. He held his arm out as if to catch her from falling but stared dead ahead instead of turning towards her. Rey followed his gaze, falling still and silent. Neither of them said a word, simply gazing out of the large viewfinder in horror.

A planet loomed lush and verdant before them. Rey didn’t need to look at the navcomputer to know that with the way the ship was pointing, they were in a decaying orbit. Without intervention, the ship would eventually fall to the planet’s surface – or burn up upon reentry into the atmo, depending on how unlucky they were.

So far, they had been very unlucky indeed.

Reaching behind her, Rey tried to sink back into the pilot’s chair. Instead of the smooth leather she had noticed on the back of the chair, however, her fingers were met with cold metal. She turned in surprise, a small yelp involuntarily coloring the air as she spied what was occupied the space.

A device the size of an astromech unit lay there, innocently reflecting the green planet below them.

\-----

Kylo’s traitorous footfalls took them back to Rey’s room, his mind far to occupied to attempt to guide them anywhere else. Surely not the bridge. Surely not another sterile conference room. Surely not his own room, devoid of life and light and color.

Chewie promptly bashed his head on one of their low-hanging plants, growling at it before ducking awkwardly. He quickly seated himself on the bench at the foot of their bed, unconsciously echoing Anakin as he did so.

Maker, how the ghosts of his past continued to haunt him.

Kylo refused to sit, opting to pace along with ‘fresher wall instead. He eyed the bottle of Whyren’s on the dresser for only a moment, reminding himself that his reasons for leaving the inch of brown liquid at the bottom were valid.

When Rey came back, they would share a drink.

Rey would come back.

 _“Would you like to talk first?”_ Chewbacca’s rough voice was not angry, perhaps a touch more resigned than anything. He just seemed… tired. The Wookiee’s imposing bulk was smaller, somehow, bent over and hunched on the end of the bed.

Perhaps it was just that Kylo was bigger now than the child he once had been. What he wouldn’t give to be that fifteen-year-old boy again, to look at the choices before him with eyes that had seen the consequences of his actions. What a different path he would have walked. It surprised Kylo to find that the rage which would have normally swelled in his chest at the thought of his regrets never came.

Perhaps this was growing up.

“I’d rather not talk at all.” Kylo said at length, because it was true. This was not a conversation he wanted to have. But it was necessary. “But I suppose you’re wondering why I ordered Luke’s death.”

_“Yes.”_

Kylo sighed, knowing Chewbacca still held the old Jedi in regard despite everything. Surely this news would come as a shock. “He was behind the bombings, Chewie.” He flinched at the nickname, wondering if the Wookiee would mind being called something so familiar. “We figured it out barely two days ago. Captured a device, finally broke our way in. They’re Force-driven. Rey knew he was involved, but not to the… the extent that I do.” He stumbled over the words, hating them even as they wove themselves around him. “I cracked the device without her. They’re completely driven by the Force. Only a Force-sensitive can detonate them. And Rey recognized Luke’s signature all over them.”

Chewbacca regarded him closely, blue eyes old and sad. Kylo couldn’t shake the feeling of sitting in the Falcon after a fight with his parents, that same sense of knowing and fear settling over him. _“So sure you are, that you would order his death? Things may not always be as they appear, Little Ben.”_

Little Ben.

He hadn’t been little in years. But Maker, did he feel small now.

“Should his life outweigh the lives of hundreds others, on the chance that Luke is the one causing their deaths? Should I allow him to continue on? Is he worth more or less than those children in that schoolyard - where would you place him on the scale, Chewbacca?” Kylo’s words were biting, but the numbness in his chest never gave way to anger.

The Wookiee said nothing.

Kylo fiddled with the edge of his sleeve, a habit he had picked up from Rey. Rey – Maker, she was everywhere and nowhere.

The urge to take back his actions - to rewind time till he could explain himself and keep her here, with him, where she _belonged_ – it was the only thing he felt. Everything else was a quiet stillness, an icy calm. He both wanted to scream and tie himself into a knot he could never unwind.

“She left because of me. And now she’s in trouble. I have to find her, Chewie.” The words surprised him, at least as much as he remained capable of surprise. The numbness in his limbs seemed to have moved north, infesting his brain.

 _“Then find her. You need to talk to the other. Someone is lying. It is not us.”_ Chewbacca replied, voice full of conviction. He nodded his shaggy head for emphasis, the bandolier clinking together as he did so. A heavy paw found it’s way to Kylo’s shoulder, steady and reassuring. It almost gave him the courage he needed. Almost – but not quite. Some still needed to come from within.

And now - Reth. Producing the datapad from it’s pocket, Kylo quickly tapped out a message, but erased it before he could hit send. This wasn’t the right medium. No – in fact, it wasn’t the right move at all. Another idea was forming. Rising from the bed, he motioned for the Wookiee to follow him down the hall. Rey’s room was lacking a traditional computer terminal, but his was not.

He would have his answers.

\-----

Rey scrambled to the copilot’s chair, throwing herself in the seat with a creak of the posh black leather. She quickly acquainted herself with the helm controls, blinking away at her innocuously. The device remained in the chair beside hers, exuding that same horrible tune that tried to bury itself in her head.

She wasn’t going to let it win.

Fingers tapping, mind racing, she completely ignored the fact that Luke remained nearly frozen in place meters from her, staring at the viewscreen.

The helm wasn’t responding. The toneless noise continued to worm its way into her ear.

Groaning in frustration, Rey scrambled out of the seat and dashed across the small cockpit, brushing against Luke in her haste.

The comm was dead as well. She slammed her fist against the console impotently.

“Kriffing hell – Luke, come on, we’ve got to find their engine room, see if we can figure out why the helm isn’t responding. If we don’t fix the decaying orbit, we’re going to end up in freefall in less than -”

“There’s no point, Rey.” Luke said, calm and steady.

Rey rounded on him, surprised. “Of course there’s a point, Luke, Maker – we can’t give up, not to mention that _thing_ over there -” She gestured angrily at the shiny metal egg, sitting innocently on the expensive leather chair.

Luke held up his hands placatingly, and it infuriated her. “Anything we can think to do he’s already considered. Trust me, Rey, I’ve spent the last year trying to find a way out. Every possibility has been foreseen. There’s nothing you can do that he won’t expect.”

“So you’re saying we just accept it? I can’t, Luke. I won’t. It’s not just our lives at stake here – that thing could wipe out an entire city block.”

“An entire city, even.” Luke judged the device with an appraising eye, and Rey hated the reminder of her mentor’s complicity in it’s production. “I don’t claim to know what his endgame is. But I assure you, Rey, that we’re in it.”

“We have to do something. Can you at least disable the device?”

“No.” The word was laced with regret, but it didn’t make Rey any happier.

“What do you mean, no? You designed them, didn’t you?”

“I perfected the design. But it’s Force-driven, Rey… and keyed to a Force user other than myself. I couldn’t disable it.” Luke looked thoughtful. He inclined his head, and for a moment he looked like _her_ Luke once more – she could almost smell the salt air.  “But… the last thing he’s going to expect us to do is nothing.”

Rey chewed her lip. She watched the planet below them, feeling the slight pitch of the ship as it twisted aimlessly in it’s orbit.  “You don’t think he’d be dumb enough to come back here and gloat, do you?”

Luke shrugged, the old twinkle almost returning to his sickly eyes. “Worth a try.”

\-----

The words he wanted to say hovered on the tip of his tongue, feeling like any moment they may simply spring from his lips of their own accord. He needed to speak them with such intensity Kylo thought he may vomit.

But every time he opened his mouth while they were waiting for the call to connect, nothing came out.

The Wookiee had ambled out of range of the camera, and was busy inspecting his calligraphy set. Kylo let him, feeling like if anyone was owed a little snooping it was Chewbacca.

The call disconnected after the final ring. Kylo frowned, hesitating before letting it ring out one more time. The unease in his stomach was not assuaged. Even if his sense of Rey herself was gone, they were made of the same stuff. Something was wrong. He knew it.

Hovering over the button which would push the call through once more, Kylo snapped his gaze to the Wookiee, suddenly full of resolve.

“Chewie.” The name still felt strange on his tongue, but the Wookiee didn’t seem to mind. He looked back up at Kylo, his steady eyes mild but tight with worry.

_“Yes, Little Ben?”_

Another dead name. It stumbled him only for a moment, and Kylo plunged on. “…I’m sorry.”

Chewbacca said nothing, turning his attention back to the calligraphy set he still held in his furry paws.

Kylo found himself content. His father would never hear it. His mother – well.

But Chewbacca had.

It would be enough.

He pushed the button to reconnect the call, waiting for answers.

\-----

It had been too long.

Why hadn’t they tripped the switch yet?

Surely they weren’t that stupid as to just sit there, awaiting their fate.

There was no fun in that.

And he wanted to have fun.

A growl, and the small shuttle was swinging itself back towards the pleasure craft to carefully dock against its smooth hull.

A tiny chirrup – another holocall. He answered it distractedly instead of simply ignoring it this time.

“Reth – we need to talk.”

He frowned. The boy was looking for him again. He still doubted.

“Of course.”

“You need to tell me what really happened on Quell.”

Anger – luminous and deep. His own anger, not the boy’s or his Other’s emotions. Sometimes the lines blurred, but today the boy was his own bright star. His confusion and resolve in equal measure were a thing to behold.

“What do you mean?”

“Things aren’t adding up. Rey isn’t with the rebels.”

Of course those four bleeding hearts would have come crawling back to the boy, whining and whimpering over the loss of the girl. It mattered not. All would proceed as planned.

“They’re lying. Does this surprise you?”

“They aren’t lying, Reth.” The boy’s tone held a hint of challenge, and he didn’t like that. So, he chose to be cruel.

“Why do you care so much, Kylo? She betrayed you. She betrayed all of us. She killed Takeshi in front of my eyes. She was his friend. She was my friend. She was… she meant something to you. But she’s gone. At the first opportunity she had, she ran from you. It was wrong to trust her. It was wrong to open your heart to her. You were wrong. We were wrong.” Just enough regret. Just enough pain. Just enough remorse over the situation, and the boy would become complacent again.

The tiny image of the boy shuddered, and the knowledge that his words had hit home became a cheerful sting against the anger.

“The only thing you can do now, my boy, is to forget her.”

Twist the knife, bury the pain, let it fester, turn into rage. He didn’t need them both. Only the boy. The boy carried enough anger in him to set the galaxy on fire, if only he would give into it.

It was what he needed. What they both needed. Power for the boy who had betrayed him, but ultimately power for himself.

The galaxy was in his grasp.

The hologram wavered once more, the signal strength not what it needed to be.

“Thank you, Reth. I have everything I need.”

The holocall clicked off, and he chuckled to himself.

\-----

“Armitage, tell me you got the trace.”

“Of course, Ren, but -”

“No time. Reroute the ship immediately. Take us to that location.”

“Ren-”

A loud Wookiee roar, punctuated by a furry fist slamming against the console.

“Control your walking carpet, would you? Fine, I’ll just swing the _entire_ Supremacy around, so you can chase this down, shall I? Just completely abandon any pretense of actually governing the galaxy so you can find your lady friend again. As much as I like Rey, you know, there are other ways of scratching that itch.”

“Armitage, if I’m right, a lot more than Rey is at stake here. I’m asking you to trust me. Besides,  you wouldn’t let me take a troopship by myself.”

“That’s beside the point, Ren.”

“Armitage, I swear to you, if I could leave the galaxy to you I would do it.”

“… you know, Ren, somehow I don’t doubt that.”

“I’m holding up my end of the bargain. Hand me those documents that needed review. I’ll be in the conference room for the holocall with that reporter. Beyond that, you know where to find me. Alert me immediately when the ship arrives.”

Kylo opened the door to the small conference room just off the bridge, watching silently as three sets of eyes turned toward him expectantly.


	55. Chapter 55

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Luke was sitting a few steps away from Rey, quietly meditating. She had tried to join in, but her unsteady nerves had prevented her from slipping into the river of Force. Rey had settled for simply watching Luke silhouetted against the planet below. Besides – she would only be fruitlessly searching for _him_. And that way lay madness. The hole in her chest was never going to be filled.

She felt like vomiting.

“Promise me something, Rey.”

“Mmm?” Luke’s voice roused her from her own morose thoughts, and she shifted slightly to alleviate the pins and needles in her legs.

“Promise me that if Gareth comes back – when he comes back – that you’re going to trust me. One last time. I haven’t exactly done anything to earn that trust, recently. But I’m asking for it all the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just… let me do the talking. Follow my lead. And no matter what, trust that I understand what I’m doing.” Luke’s hazy yellow-tinged eyes bored into hers. Rey swallowed on reflex.

“… of course, Master Luke.”

A chuckle, a softening. “No. Just Luke.”

“Okay, Luke.” This felt strange. Something was strange, but Rey nodded. It was an easy concession to make – completely hypothetical. “We don’t even know for sure he’s coming back here, you know.”

“It’s barely been thirty minutes since we stumbled onto the bridge. He’s waiting for us to find something. He’ll get impatient. He’ll come.”

“ _I’m_ getting impatient. Doing nothing isn’t exactly -”

“Your style, I know. You’ve said. Trust me, Rey. Please.” His yellowed eyes were strangely warm, and Rey desperately wanted to believe the faint streaks of blue she saw in them meant something.

“Alright, Luke.”

Silence fell over the room again, though she resumed pacing instead of sitting placidly and awaiting her fate. Rey flitted between the comm and the helm, poking and prodding with no real urgency on the off chance that something she did would make a difference.

She was just about to check the helm controls for the fourth time when the tuneless melody she had been successfully repressing rose frantically in pitch. Rey clutched her ears, the Force inside her chest quailing.

Luke appeared unaffected, squinting at her in confusion. “Rey, what -”

His unspoken question answered itself when the small door into the bridge slid open, the bulky figure of Reth looming in the entryway.

Rey shot to her feet, calling the chairleg to her with a flick of her wrist. It came, albeit wobbly and unhappy, and Reth smirked nastily.

“I see you’re still suffering some of the after-effects from the stripping of your link. Good. It will be that much easier to finish this without your pathetic attempts at fighting back.”

“We don’t plan on fighting you, Gareth.” Luke said mildly. Rey snorted in response, adrenaline surging through her.

“I think you may want to remind Rey of that.” Reth’s smirk turned into an unpleasant smile. He continued to leer at Rey’s tense stance.

Rey glared back, remembering her promise to Luke and suddenly regretting it.

A simple twist of Reth’s wrist, and the pathetic chairleg she held was splintered into a thousand pieces. The snap startled her more than the rush of pain, and she was dimly aware of the tiny slivers now embedded in her palm.

“It’s useless to resist, little scavenger girl. I’ve been in your head. I know how you think. I know right now you’re aching to rush me, to attack, to scratch and claw and fight for your life like the feral thing you truly are. But it’s all for naught, I’m afraid.”

Rey tensed, trying to move her bloody hand but finding herself unable. She was frozen stiff, captive to the whims of the megalomaniac across the room. Reminding herself to keep her head, Rey met his cold eyes evenly and allowed herself a wolfish grin.

She might be trapped – but she wasn’t powerless. She had the Force.

And it still thrummed in her bones, even if she felt numb and dim. It wouldn’t desert her now, even as it whispered _wait wait wait_ in a chorus with her thudding heart.

“I can’t believe you two hadn’t managed to figure it out yet. Honestly, I’m disappointed. I thought you would have been more… desperate. You’ve certainly been more desperate to protect your apprentice before… or did you not tell her about that, old man?” Reth clucked his tongue, finally stepping into the small bridge to circle Rey like a predator with captured prey.

Blood dripped from her immobilized hand to splatter on the floor.

Luke shrugged, as if it were all the same to him. “She’s long since outgrown me. Rey is no longer my apprentice.”

Luke’s words were true. That didn’t mean, however, that Rey didn’t ache for things to be different.

“Oh, I think you’ll find that she has a few lessons left to learn from you, old man.”

Precious seconds ticked away as Reth fiddled with some control on a console Rey hadn’t even approached. Luke caught her gaze and held it, something lurking in his expression that Rey didn’t like.

It was the look of a man about to do something ill-advised.

“Did you ever wonder, Rey, how it was that the three of you survived the blast on D’Qar?” Reth began innocently enough, barely blinking as he stared her down. Rey swallowed thickly. The air in the room grew stale.

She stayed silent, holding Luke’s gaze. There was something he was trying to tell her, but she couldn’t quite catch it. The memory of having him in her head as he attempted to fix the Bond came rushing back, and she wished more than anything she could let Luke in.

But she remained silent, desperately trying to divine what Luke was planning on doing.

It appeared her refusal to respond was answer enough for Reth.

“Really, old man, you didn’t tell her? I do wonder what you two talked about in the hours you had together again. That was a concession from Reth, you know. He knew how badly you had been missing your master, little lost girl. Your stand-in father. What a pathetic need of approval, of _belonging_ , that you have. It makes you weak.”

Luke dropped his eyes, and Rey grew fearful and forgot her promise. “How did we survive on D’Qar?” Her voice quavered, and she didn’t like it.

“He really didn’t tell you, did he. My goodness, how unexpected. Not willing to reveal your soft spot for her, _Master_?” the chuckle accompanying this sentence was oily, and Rey would have shuddered if she had been able to move. “He has a habit of throwing himself in between you and death. I protected myself of course, along with your precious Kylo. You were supposed to die in the blast – sorry, ducks, nothing personal – but your master here intervened. He flung you far away, against my explicit instructions. It cost us more of Holdo’s human shields than I had desired. He paid for it later. I made sure of that.”

Reth dusted his hands, turning to face Rey once more. “Though I must admit, Reth was a bit relieved as well. The boy always was a little on the soft side, though he never cared to admit it.”

“How often was Reth… in control?” Rey was filled with the need to know – and to stall. Luke was playing at something, and she wasn’t quite following what it was. 

“How sweet, are you wondering if he was truly real? Your precious Gareth was speaking less and less, toward the end.” The husk of her friend shrugged, as if it were inconsequential. He almost raised his hand to the cartouche but stopped himself before his fingers could brush against it. “But he was always… there.”

“I want to talk to him.” Rey tugged her head bullishly, moving it less than a millimeter. “I want to speak to Reth.”

The man before her cackled. “I’m afraid not.”

“Then you tell me. How long have you been in my head?”

This gave him pause, but the question couldn’t have been unexpected. “Little girl, I’ve seen you since the day you manifested your impressive connection to the Force. And you know when that was.” A pointed look, full of smirking self-righteousness.

The afterburners of a spaceship, vanishing over the harsh sands of Jakku to never be seen again. Fire raining from the heavens. A crushing sense of being alone.

He chuckled darkly. “Of course you know. But to answer your question more fully – I’ve been in your head in some capacity since my apprentice stumbled in. And I’ve been in his, oh… practically since he was born.” He paused, tapping in one final command before turning from the console. “I forged your link, but you two truly grew it into a Bond. I wasn’t lying about that, you know. It was impressive. It’s a shame it’s gone.”

“Nothing’s ever really gone.” Luke jumped in, voice cool and collected. It was nothing like Rey felt in that moment.

The creature curled his lip into a sneer. “Enough of this banter. Now, we reset the galaxy. You should be honored, truly. You have such a… critical role in the proceedings.”

“Are you going to explain yourself, or are we just supposed to figure it out?” Luke still somehow managed to look bored with the events of the last few moments, and Rey was torn between admiration and terror.

“You mean you haven’t guessed? Old man, I know you’re more intelligent than that.” A sweeping gesture, encompassing the two of them and the planet beneath them. “The Emperor’s pretty little plaything, and his estranged uncle. Can you think of a better pair to have been behind all those horrendous attacks? I surely can’t. Rey’s betrayal in particular will shake the stars. You’re so beloved, little _Grey Lady_. Can you imagine the look on tiny Fen’s face when she discovers her precious idol was the one who stole her brother from her? I won’t have to. I’ll have someone there to film it. It will be headline gold.”

“You were the leak in the First Order.”

“Try again, little girl. I didn’t have to be. Besides, if it was me, who would be sending out the Emperor’s reaction to your betrayal in real-time? I’d never make it back to the Supremacy in time.”

_Ben. I’m going to hurt Ben. Maker -_

Rey’s stomach turned, and the world tried to spin on it’s axis. Held stiff in the Force, she was helpless to alleviate the vertigo that drowned her at the reminder of her absent bond-mate. Her own Force swelled, making her limbs warm and soft even as the world turned to shards of glass.

She was not powerless.

She came back to reality with Reth – Snoke – whoever he was, wheezing a laugh. “The Hand, brought so low. I do love to watch you struggle. You have such a spirit about you. What a treasure it was to train you, to shape your mind. It’s truly a shame you have to die. If only you had turned… perhaps things could have been different.”

More blood pattered to the floor.

He paused for a moment, as if remembering something with fondness.  It made Rey’s skin crawl. “No matter. You’ll betray the man you love, the galaxy you wanted to save. You and your sainted master will die on this ship, either by my hand or during the crash landing on the surface below, it matters little. When the people of Naboo come to look for survivors, I will trigger the device. You’ll wipe out an entire city of people as your final act. There will be just enough evidence in the crash to link the two of you to it, even though your bodies will be long gone.”

A push of a button, and Rey’s disembodied voice rang out. “Mayday, Mayday, this is Yacht Inverness, call sign Delta-Three-Niner-Niner, we’ve lost helm control and are in freefall, repeat -”

Rey tried to wriggle free once more, blood running cold in her numb arms. Reth only laughed. “Handy trick, isn’t it? It’s not quite lifelike, having to steal it from your mind like that, but… it will do. Your struggle is quite pointless, my dear. The orbit is decaying. I’ve just accelerated your freefall – which you would have done yourself if you’d only been less complacent and actually tried to save yourselves. It will just look like a simple mechanical failure as you attempted to land.”

“Why do this? You already ruled us quietly from the shadows. We trusted Reth – the both of us did. You had power. Why all of this?”

The creature wheezed a crackling laugh, almost smiling through gritted teeth. “Because, my dear girl. A galaxy at peace is boring. No one wants stability. All of us, to a man, crave the chaos. We thrive in it. We invent, we rise above, we fight and die for the sake of it. The Empire, the First Order, the Rebellion, the Resistance – all agents of chaos even as they try to bring order. And in the chaos, Darkness will rise.”

The twisted man took another step towards Rey, cocking his head and sneering in an unpleasant manner. “If you had simply turned to the Dark, I wouldn’t have had to take it this far. We could have ended this charade months ago with so much less bloodshed. No one needed to die. But you’re just too damn pure. You kept dragging Kylo back to the Light. Even now, he’s infected with it. But you’ll soon fix that for me. And the Knights of Ren will rise again, with their Master fully purged of any hope. It’s delicious, really.”

“You’re wrong.” Luke said calmly from somewhere to Rey’s right.

“I don’t think so, old man.” A flick of Reth’s fingers, and Luke was tossed across the bridge like a ragdoll. No noise from the old Jedi, but a small whimper of sympathy from Rey.

“You’re wrong.” Luke stood, wiping blood from his split lip and look at Reth with steel in his gaze.

“Again.”

A toss, a thump. Luke’s nose was bloody when he stood this time. “You’re wrong.” He smirked, crossing his arms.

“Old man, you don’t know when to quit.” There was a tick of frustration in Reth’s voice, now.

A crash against a console, and Rey found she could wiggle her fingers.

“You’re wrong. You’ve been wrong about me from the start.”

Anger filled the room, the air snapping with tension and power. This time, Luke grunted in pain.

“You never understood my motivations. You thought you’d won, didn’t you. Forcing me to design your weapon. Keeping me here as bait. You could never understand why I simply didn’t try to escape.”

A crash, and Luke’s skull rang hollowly against the durasteel floorplate. This time, he struggled a little as he stood again, a trail of blood running down the side of his face.

Rey tried to raise her hand, to knock away the man that had once been her friend before he caused any more damage, but every sense she possessed told her to wait. Luke’s expression told her to wait.

The Jedi smiled at her, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Reth was ignoring her, focusing entirely on Luke. “You didn’t escape because you were _weak_. Your attachments made you weak. You could have been halfway across the galaxy at any time, but you stayed. Why? Not for yourself. But for her. You knew we’d kill your precious Rey. Your _weakness_. Your weakness for her has killed you, old man. You, and all those people.”

“You’re wrong.”

This time, it was Rey who screamed as Luke’s metal hand was ripped from his flesh, thrown across the room to clang against the far wall. Luke merely grunted, stumbling to his knees as blood began to flow from the ragged stump.

“I’m growing tired of this, old man.” Reth’s voice was tight with fury, and he advanced on Luke with heavy steps. Emphasizing his point, purple fire arced from his hands, connecting to Luke and running rampant over his body.

Through it all, Luke faced the man who was once his student with nothing but pity in his eyes. “You’re wrong. Love keeps the galaxy alive. Love gives us hope. You’ll never understand love, so you can never understand the sway that hope holds. You can only understand how to pervert it for your own means. But it’s so much more than that. It’s a power you will never possess no matter how hard you try.”

Reth silently sent another wave of purple fire, his fearsome smile illuminated in violet light.

Luke turned his face to Rey and held her gaze. She stared in slack-jawed terror, watching the Jedi slump to the floor after another wave of purple fire coursed over his body.

_Trust me._

Was that his voice, or her memory of it?

Luke spat out a glob of blood, smiling up through red teeth and a bloodstained beard.  “I pity… I pity you. Even as I understand you, I pity you. And you… you’ll never even understand why you failed.” Luke didn’t even rise from the floor, simply stretching his remaining hand over his head. “But now, I release you.”

The cartouche was ripped from Reth’s neck and sailed into Luke’s palm as if it was meant to belong there. In seconds, it was pulverized, white rock turning into an innocent cloud of dust.

Rey could move her legs but remained rooted to the spot. It couldn’t be that easy.

Of course it wasn’t.

The creature cackled and wheezed to her right, practically doubled over in humor. “You old fool. You truly thought I resided in that pretty bauble? That prison was for Gareth. Any humanity you hoped to appeal to in me has been erased. I’m free of any of your pretty constraints. And now, I’ll be free of you.”

A terrible grinding crunch, a pop of bone, and Luke’s body slumped to the floor, neck bent at an unnatural angle. The light had left his eyes forever. They stared up at Rey, empty and vacant but once more as blue as ocean waves.

Rey sank to her knees, heedless of the fact that she was betraying the secret of her freedom to Snoke. Luke’s name died on her lips, strangled and unnatural. The rend in the fabric of the universe coincided with the disappearance of Luke’s physical body, and Rey felt it like a tear in her own soul.

The breath left her lungs, and she reached her bloody hand futilely toward the empty robes on the floor. An animalistic cry tore from her lungs and reverberated in the still room.

There had been so much more she had wanted to say. To understand. But her chance was gone.

She was so alone.

And now, she was angry.

Chest heaving, she looked up at the creature before her with a fury the likes of which she had never felt before. It was all-consuming. It eclipsed any common sense she had ever claimed to possess.

Gareth was gone, for better or for worse. Before her stood Snoke, wearing the skin of a man she had once called friend. The memory of that red room and the pain in her body, the pain in her mind, scrolled through her mind like some twisted holodrama.

Snoke. All that he had done, even without her knowing.

Now, Rey knew what she had to do. She had a sole purpose, and it was destroying the man who had ripped her bond-mate from her head. Who had taken Luke from her. Leia. Who had been using her as a pawn for years.

Who had relentlessly tortured the man she loved since the day of his birth.

Her anger crystalized into hatred. With sudden clarity, Rey realized that she _hated_ Snoke.

A rush of Darkness slid up her spine, and Rey drank it up greedily. It filled her limbs, steadied her dizzy head. It stemmed the pain in her hand, in her heart.

Now, she was more powerful than she could have ever imagined.

She understood now why Ben felt the pull to the Darkness so strongly. For a moment, Rey wondered if it wasn’t the Balance she should have been seeking, but the Darkness instead. The irregular tone she had been trying to ignore turned into a klaxon blaring in her ears.

It was so much more powerful than she had ever imagined.

Rey screamed, curling her fingers and slashing lines down the shell of Reth’s face with invisible hands. Snoke howled, advancing toward her blindly as blood ran into his eyes.

She was going to end this.

The ship shuddered underfoot, but it mattered not.

The only thing that mattered was the death of the creature who stood before her.


	56. Chapter 56

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

In the end, Kylo had told them nearly everything. Luke’s betrayal, his ill-fated decision to leave Rey out of the loop, the Monk’s lies about the death of their friend. Everything pertinent.

Finn was pacing, and it was almost making Kylo dizzy trying to track his frantic steps.

“I knew we shouldn’t have trusted him. I knew it – we all knew it, dammit, he said as much, he said we couldn’t trust him -” Finn raised a fist against the bulkhead, stopping short of actually connecting with the steel plate.

Kylo sympathized.

“Finn, mate, take a break, losing your cool isn’t going to fix this.”

“Nothings going to _fix_ this, Poe -”

“Maker, you two really are an old married couple. Kiss it out or shut up, the both of you. Bitching about it isn’t going to fix anything. Hear the man out.” Rose crossed her arms over her chest, fiddling with the silver crescent as she did so.

He truly did like this girl.

Kylo nodded to Rose before continuing, and he did not miss the encouraging half-smile she gave him.

Fuck, now her _friends_ were smiling at him. He was truly losing his edge.

“As I said – I’ve managed to get a location on the transmission from the Monk. The Supremacy is en route as we speak. It’s not far.” He checked the chrono on his datapad quickly. “Perhaps even inside of the next hour. The ship it originated from has not moved.”

“How do we know she’s even going to be there?” said Finn petulantly. “You should have let us leave in the Falcon, we’re far less conspicuous, we could have chased him down before this tug even turned around.”

“Don’t underestimate the power of this Star Destroyer. You, of all people.” Kylo raised an eyebrow at the deserter, and Finn had the good sense to hush himself.

“Still – are we sure this is the right call?” Poe looked immensely skeptical. Chewie lowed in concern, echoing Poe’s tone if not his exact words.

“No.” Kylo said simply, running a hand over the ridges of his scars in frustration. Poe stared at him in surprise. “But unless someone has a better idea...”

It appeared no one did.

“Well… what do we do in the meantime?” Rose again, her tone steady and calm. Practicality taking over.

“There’s not much to be done. We -” Kylo stopped, a strange stirring in his chest giving him pause. It was oddly familiar, a push of anxiety as if something was -

A tear in the fabric of the universe. So loud Kylo was surprised the noise was only in his head, a crackling cry of anger accompanying it. He stumbled backwards, knees connecting with a chair and forcing him down. He clutched at his head, fisting his hands in his dark hair and drawing in a shuddering breath.

Luke.

Luke was dead.

None of the relief he had expected to feel appeared. He had called for Luke’s demise himself, but something about it appearing now, out of the blue, just seemed so… wrong. There was only a crushing sense of regret, the cold fingers of loss running down his arms.

His hands dropped into his lap, fingers aching for the warmth of Rey’s hands which should have been inside them.

The roar of voices in the room crept back into his ears by degrees, and Kylo raised his shaggy head.

“Kriffing hell, Kylo, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Poe gawked at him curiously.

He almost wished he had. Allowing his mind to catch up, for a moment, he stared at Poe blankly before speaking in a low, harsh voice. “Luke is dead.”

They may as well know.

Finn and Poe started clamoring loudly again, and Chewbacca roared angrily in the background. Rose held her hands up for silence, loudly shushing the cacophony of noise behind her.

“Would you all just let the man _talk_?” she snarled. Kylo tried not to think about how all the blood had drained from her face, how her hands were trembling as she held them up.

They were scared.

He was scared.

The world was changing too fast for him to keep up.

 “Kylo, how do you know Luke’s gone?” Rose’s voice was beginning to tremble to match her hands. She buried them in her pockets as if to hide them, but her balled fists were visible even through the thick material.

He stared at the rebels for a moment, moving his dull-eyed gaze from Rose’s hands to Poe’s face, to Finn’s blank expression. He had almost forgotten that Luke had meant something to them, too.

Kylo couldn’t bring himself to look at Chewbacca.

“The Force.” Two words, and so much left unsaid. “It’s…” he opened his mouth to explain, but the words refused to come out. “It’s complicated.”

“So… if Rey…” Rose twisted the pendant around her neck, looking ashen.

“I’d know.” Kylo supplied quickly. At least, he thought he would.

“So she’s still alive.” Finn’s voice was fraught with relief, looking for reassurance that there was still hope.

 _Maybe_ , his mind whispered disloyally. “Yes.” He said aloud. The word was solid; comforting. Kylo wished he felt it ring true.

He wondered if they others could sense his hesitation.

“Then there’s still hope.” Poe supplied, gripping Rose by the shoulder.

“Yes.” Kylo said gruffly, trying to infuse the word full of a confidence he didn’t feel.

They fell silent, lost to their own thoughts. Kylo watched as the stars streaked by the window, the galaxy spinning onward even without Luke.

Perhaps, without Rey as well.

\-----

Rey spun on her heel, aiming a vicious kick backwards to Reth’s – no, not Reth, Reth was dead – _Snoke’s_ knee as she scrambled beyond his reaching fingers.

He grinned at her, blood running from a cut over his eye to stain his mouth a nightmare red. Another slash of his hand, and she was throw into the far bulkhead for what had to be at least the sixteenth time. Her body cried out in agony as she landed with a thud on the floor, her ribs screaming as she drew in a ragged breath.

The ship was bellowing around her, slipping towards the planet in earnest. Rey spat out a tooth, hauling herself to her feet just in time to lose her balance again.

Without standing, she called for the third time for the lightsaber still clipped to Snoke’s belt. Her red one, with the crackling blade. The one _they_ had made.

 _Ben, Ben, Ben_ – his name no longer sending her into the depths of despair. No, now it was a heartbeat, calling her home.

This time, the weapon sailed through the air to her waiting palm, anxious to be reunited with its mistress.

The creature before her only cackled, drawing her blue saber and advancing on her with otherworldly speed.

She was struck with the realization that he had _toying_ with her before.

Rey threw herself into the air, a beautiful arching jump propelled by the Force. She landed with a wince, blocking the downward blow from the blue beam of light even as she tucked under to jab upward with the malicious cracklesnap of the red blade.

Snoke dodged it easily, grazing her shoulder with his weapon before throwing her into the viewscreen.

She screamed in anger, rage making her limbs shake and her eyes blacken. The Darkness rose up in her again like bile. She grabbed for the Force, squeezing with her considerable might on Snoke’s neck.

She’d never felt this powerful before. Even broken and battered as she was, the determination in her chest told her she could do _anything_.

Even win.

But Snoke threw off her grasp with little effort, laughing with his crooked, bloodstained smile. “You’ll never defeat me. But oh, what a beautiful thing to see you try.”

Rey sped on wings of Force, so fast she barely registered the searing pain in her own side. Her red blade bit home for a moment – just a moment, but it was enough.

Snoke snarled, wrenching his torso away from her. The smoking hole in his left shoulder goaded her on. She had landed a blow.

His hand was raised, and Rey was thrown once more to the floor. He advanced on her, steps sure and steady. He hissed softly, advancing on her with determined steps. “Think of what we could have been together, my darling Rey.”

Blood ran into her eye, hot and stinging.

He was toying with her. She howled again, dancing forward and slashing with an animalistic fury. She was no longer in total control of her own movements, surrendering to the river of anger and pain.

Dimly, she wondered if this was how Ben had fought; yielding to the rage and hurt deep inside of him to turn his movements into a weapon of their own.

Snoke chuckled, a wheezing nasty noise. “If you had only turned, look at the power you could have harnessed. I could have trained you, dear girl. You could have been so much more than this.”

How was he not breaking a sweat? How was he continuing to fend her off?

Sweat and blood stung both Rey’s eyes, and she pulled Snoke closer with an open palm and a rush of Darkness. He scooted across the floor and into the tip of her red blade, just barely singeing his upper arm before he wrenched himself free and blue light glanced against her waist.

The ship pitched, and Rey lost her footing.

Now, her side ached in earnest.

Snoke yanked her across the floor to him, a downward slash of the blue blade opening a line down her back reaching from her shoulder blade to her hip. Rey screamed in pain, the bones beneath exposed to the cold air even as her flesh sizzled around the wound.

_Finn, Finn, Finn in the snow, on Starkiller, long ago, a fight, the purple light, a chasm behind, Ben’s eyes in her mind…_

This was it. She struggled to stand, but even with the Force howling in the veins she couldn’t manage it. Rey collapsed on the ground, agony making her limbs shake. The very air in her lungs charred, turning to ash to accompany the fire in her flesh.

The creature who wore the face of her friend looked down in pity. His singsong voice was soothing, calm. “You don’t have to die in pain, girl. Reth never wanted that for you. I don’t want that, either. There’s no sense in you suffering any further. Speak to Kylo Ren; confess to him. I’ll kill you quickly, and he will live.”

Rey drew in a shuddering breath, trying to send the pain away. “I won’t let you - all those people -”

A nasty laugh. “Little lost girl, they are dead either way. Nothing you can do will save them.”

The ship howled around them, and the green of the planet was growing ever-larger.

“You’re running out of time, my dear. You’ve already lost. Why spend your last moments this way? Just think – your last words will be to your precious Ben. Your last thoughts can be of him. And then I’ll take away your pain and nothing will matter any longer.”

He had knelt on the floor beside her, grasping her chin in his fingers and raising it to look at him. Rey suppressed a groan of pain as the movement disturbed the wicked wound running down her body.

The edges of her vision were turning black.

Something drew Snoke’s attention, his cold fingers leaving her face as he strode to the nav console. He cursed – loudly, but without finesse. Rey twisted on the floor, an arc of fire leaving her torso alight in pain. Snoke was pacing, pausing to enter a command into the console every so often. The easy confidence of moments before had vanished.

Something truly had him panicked.

He stepped back over to her, roughly kicking her from her belly to her back. Rey screamed as her wound met the floor, metal touching exposed bone. She twisted to free herself from the pain, but a booted foot shoved her shoulder back down.

“How did your little _boyfriend_ know where to find us?” Snoke wasn’t playing now, all traces of geniality vanished from his voice.

“I don’t – I didn’t -”

“Lies! Deception!” He roared, twisted his heel against her collarbone. Rey cried out, feeling the bone snap. If it had been from the pressure alone or an application of the Force, she would never know.

“Because you can’t manage to tell me the truth, you little whore, I’m altering the deal. Get on the comm. Speak to your _lover_. Tell him you’re behind the bombings, that you’ve been working with the Resistance this entire time. Confess. Break his heart, or so help me I’ll destroy him in the blink of an eye, and I’ll kill you last.”

“You’d never. You need him.” But Rey knew that wasn’t true.

“He is a plaything, at best. Everyone on that entire ship is expendable to me. A tragedy, don’t you think? The entire crew compliment of the Supremacy, gone in an eyeblink. This fledging government again rudderless. Yes – this is even more devastating than the city below. Now, we’ll claim the top leaders of the government in one fell swoop. Think of the holo coverage. Think of the _chaos_. But most of all… Ben will be gone, and rest assured I’ll keep you alive until you feel him die.”

The ship had twisted, pointing itself away from Naboo to face once more into space. The grey bulk of the Supremacy was clearly visible, inching closer and closer to their location.

“And if I do?”

“Their ship lives. You do not. I take the device into my shuttle and leave, live to plot another day.”

Her life was forfeit regardless.

The raw wound in her mind where their connection had lived tingled in something akin to longing; her heart aching as she thought of his hands, his lips, his body beside hers in the dark.

Rey could practically feel Ben’s light stretch across the stars to warm her.

She’d never let it go out.

In the end, the choice was an easy one. She would gladly trade her life for his any day. It just so happened today was that day.

She met Snoke’s gaze with steel in her eyes. “Open the channel.”

\-----

Kylo stood cagily on the bridge, well aware of the stares the group of four ragtag fellows behind him were garnering. He ignored the questioning eyes of his crew. Right now, it was immaterial.

He knew Rey was on that ship. He knew it in the depths of his soul.

The sleek metal hull twisted aimlessly in space, tumbling towards the planet in what the scanners were telling them was a decaying orbit.

“Sir, we’re being hailed.” Hux looked at him warily. The General rarely appeared to be unnerved, but the look in his eyes right now was anything but comforting.

“What are you waiting for, put it through!” Poe bounced anxiously behind him, straining forward as if to pull up the call himself. It was even further telling that Hux didn’t immediately put him back in his place.

“Do it.” Kylo said curtly, cocking his head as if to remind the pilot of his surroundings. Rose laid a hand on Poe’s elbow, bravely facing the viewscreen. Finn remained standoffish, clearly uncomfortable back in the arms of the First Order.

Chewbacca was unreadable.

Kylo turned toward the screen as well, putting the four rebels to his back and Hux to his right. It seemed fitting.

When the channel fizzled to life, no holo appeared to accompany the static chime of the now-open frequency. Puzzled, Kylo took a half step forward. “Adjust our settings, bring the picture into view.”

“Sir, it’s not on our end. We’re being shut out from the source.”

Before Kylo could snap back, Rey’s voice cut through the static.

“Star Destroyer _Supremacy_ , this is Personal Luxury Yacht… _Inverness._ I would speak to B… Emperor Kylo Ren.”

He could practically feel the relief rolling off the rebels, and even Hux seemed to relax his stance slightly. Kylo did not.

There was a tightness in Rey’s voice that gave him no comfort. He wanted to feel relief – she was alive, she was speaking – but something felt off.

“Yacht Inverness, you address the Emperor.”

“ _Ben_.” A choke, a gasp – a grunt of pain?

All activity on the bridge ceased. Kylo took another step forward to the static, as if it could somehow bring him closer to her. Her voice surrounded him, but he drew no comfort from it. An itch formed on his back, running from his shoulder to his hip.

“Ben… it was me. All along. Behind everything.”

He scowled into the static where her face should be. “Yacht Inverness -”

“Ben just – not now Ben, please. Talk to me.” Rey’s voice was thick, the words struggling to come out. It shuddered.

In the tomblike silence on the bridge, Kylo could hear Rose’s intake of breath, the rustle of the Wookiee’s fur as he shifted his stance.

Every instinct he possessed was telling him to prepare for a fight. 

“Rey -” His chest was on fire.

“You won’t understand. You’ll never understand, and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but it was me.” The end of that syllable was bitten off, as if some external locus clipped her words. “I was working with the Resistance all along. I…”

“Rey, whatever it was -” His back was burning – he prodded the link, but it was still cold despite the fire licking along his side.

“Ben, hear me out!” Rey yelled, and the panic in her voice tugged at him, telling him to look deeper, to search for more that what was on the surface.

He railed against the smooth wall where their Bond had lived, but it remained cold and still. Maker, if there had ever been a time where he needed to hear her thoughts, it was now.

“Rey!” His own panic colored his voice, making it shake, making him weak. “Rey, let me -”

“Ben, for Maker’s sake, if it’s the last thing you ever do for me, listen to exactly what I say.”

_The last thing, the last, she couldn’t have said the last –_

The realization hit him that she was _crying._

“Ben, I want you… I need you… I need you to blow this ship out of the sk-”

The static field where Kylo stood dropped. The connection was lost.

Kylo stood at the front of the bridge, panting, panicking, looking around at someone, anyone, for answers. The line down his back ran hot and cold in turns, agony moving through his limbs in waves. He couldn’t breathe.

“Ren, what was that, what are we -”

Kylo tried to take a step and slumped to the floor instead, resting on his hip in an effort to relieve the phantom pains in his body. It was too much, too much to process. His uncle gone, something’s wrong, something’s wrong, ice in his head where her light should be, was this her pain? She is lying, why would she lie – why did she ask to die; Rey, Rey, _Rey_ –

Where was it, where was the Light?

The bridge was a roar of activity again, reports he couldn’t process being shouted across the room. Hux – Hux was saying something, but he couldn’t fathom what.

Everything in him was screaming for Rey, and anything that wasn’t her was meaningless.

He was surprised to find Rose kneeling beside him, a hand on his bicep. He was too shocked to pull it away, and instead used it as an anchor to pull himself back.

Falling apart wasn’t going to help Rey. Giving into Rey’s pain wasn’t going to help her. Giving into his panic…

Trying to master himself, he looked up at Hux from his position on the floor. “Tractor beam. Bring the ship in. Bring it in _now_.”

Hux barked the order back to the slack-jawed underlings. The silence in his head was suddenly so loud, and the seconds stretched into minutes, and something was wrong, something was wrong, he couldn’t _breathe_ –

“We can’t get a lock.”

“The Falcon, get to the -”

“Got it, we’re gone.” Finn’s voice was very far away. Rose’s hand didn’t leave his arm.

Kylo watched the yacht twisting in space, spying a tiny shuttle on it’s belly as it rolled.

"Scramble fighters - get her _back_."


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning - graphic description of violence lies herein.

 

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

As soon as she agreed to hail the Star Destroyer, Rey felt herself being cradled in the Force with surprising tenderness. She was carefully levitated to the comm station, placed in the chair just enough to support her without actually placing pressure on the massive gash in her back.

Snoke was behind her, practically purring in her ear as he reached around to the control board. “That’s a lovely girl. A wise choice, indeed. Can’t have you sounding too pained now, can we? I knew you were a smart one after all. Soon, it will all be over. Ben will go free, and your suffering will be through. Perhaps you’ll even join your master once more. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Your father figure.”

His hand hovered in the air, as if hesitating for a moment before opening the comm channel. His next words were soft, soothing. “I could have been your father figure, little lost girl. I wanted to. I called to you, in the Darkness of that cave. But you ran from me. We could have been so much more, my wandering child. You were so helpless; yearning for any guidance.”

His fingers were close, so close, to brushing the blood-matted hair from her face. At the last moment Snoke dropped them to the console, pattering aimlessly against the key panel.

“But it was not to be.”

Rey said nothing, eyes wide in trepidation.

Snoke turned from her at last, tapping out the command to hail the Supremacy.

 “They won’t be able to see you, so don’t be concerned with your appearance now. Just focus on your voice. Convince Kylo Ren of your betrayal. Let it be your goodbye to him. Once the channel goes dead, your suffering will be over.”

A tear, unbidden, ran down her cheek.

Snoke snorted. “A tear, scavenger girl? You’re fulfilling your destiny. There is no nobler end.”

Rey heard the telltale static of the line opening. In the space above where Luke’s empty robes lay, a view of the bridge of the Supremacy popped into existence.

And there he was – pale, and haggard, dark circles under his eyes that looked more like bruises but oh – it was _Ben_.

Every molecule of her being ached for him, the pain in her heart far outweighing the pain in her battered body. Rey stretched a bloody hand toward his image, relieved he couldn’t see her but overwhelmed with her need for him all the same. Her mind threatened to careen into insanity; replaying over and over the irrational urge to throw herself from the chair and into the hologram’s arms. Her desire for him settled in the bottom of her stomach, a heavy weight to pull her back down to reality.

_Ben._

Her hand fell uselessly into her lap. Hux glowered in her general direction, and Rey had never thought she would have felt it a comforting expression before now.

In the background she could just barely make out the faces of her rebel friends. Rey realized with a jolt that they must have waited for her; been worried. Chewbacca loomed over them like a fuzzy shadow, and Rey felt another pang of regret. What she wouldn’t give to bury her face in that fur one last time.

Another tear.

Kylo took a step forward till his image hovered directly over his uncle’s worn brown robes, fussing about the connection strength and the lack of visual.

Rey opened her mouth to speak, but all she could manage was a wheezing cry. A swallow, the second time stronger.

“Star Destroyer Supremacy this is the Personal Luxury Yacht…” she trailed off, casting her eyes to Snoke for a prompt. He shrugged.

“Inverness.” The memory of words she had never consciously spoken crackling through the speakers made her shudder. “I would speak to B… Emperor Kylo Ren.”

At the sound of her voice, nearly the entire bridge relaxed. Even Hux’s shoulders shifted downward a millimeter.

But Ben remained ramrod straight. He knew better. He knew _her_.

He said something, but it was lost on Rey. She was consumed with the need to touch him, to _be_ with him. The raw space where their Bond had lived was throbbing, her mind spiraling again as she fought for control.

“Ben.” She cried, lunging forward despite knowing she could never reach him. Agony licked across her back again, and she sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.

He was talking, but the words weren’t her name, they didn’t make sense –

She plead with him to listen. Snoke stood behind the apparition of the man she loved, reminding her that time was short.

Ben shifted his weight, searching what must be a cloud of static on his end for her. “Rey…”

His voice, her name – it ripped the words from her chest, and the only thought in her head the desire to push him so far away from her that he could never be hurt again.

She lied. Babbling, really. Snoke twisted his hand, causing the edges of her wound to brush against the chair and she bit back a cry. He shook his head, not pleased with the direction her words had taken.

But oh, her name from Ben’s lips again.

More lies, more obfuscation – she kept trying to say it without using the words, stalling for more time spent watching his face. But another twist, another wave of pain, and Ben was catching on to something being wrong.

She knew that furrow in his brow. The look in his eye.

He said her name four more times as she continued, each one another knife in her heart.

The pressure from the Force hold was becoming almost unbearable. Her time was out. Black started to creep back into her vision – she was going to lose her chance to save him. She yelled, scrabbling at her throat, at her broken collarbone, at the pain in her chest that came from nothing physical.

“Ben, for Maker’s sake, if it’s the last thing you ever do for me, listen to exactly what I say.”

The pressure relaxed. Ben’s face was taut, his brow wrinkled, and eyes filled with pain as he stared into hers across a field of stars and the haze of static.

And Rey knew she was wrong.

If she let Snoke escape, he’d hold Ben in his claws for the rest of his life. Ben would live, but he would not be free.

And if she was going to die, Rey was going to be damn sure that Ben would be free.

“Ben, I want you… I need you…”

A whisper across her mind – Han’s voice, reminding her to concentrate. Leia, telling her she had a part to play. Luke, telling her to trust him.

She saw Chewie in the holocall, cocking his head to the side in confusion.

A flood of half-remembered words from those musty books, talking about both sides of the Force in a way she had never truly comprehended.

And then she remembered the cave, the power she had felt. The eternity she had existed inside, all in the space of a few seconds.

Looking right into Ben’s lovely eyes, she smiled. The last tear snuck from her eye to land on her lap. She knew what to do. But in case she failed, she needed Ben to _listen_. She chose her next words carefully, deliberately, and said them as quickly as she could manage before Snoke could get wind that she was no longer cooperating.

“I need you to blow this ship out of the sky.”

The last thing Rey saw before the call was dropped were Ben’s dark eyes blown wide.

Then Snoke descended on her, once more full of fury.

But this time, Rey was faster.

The Darkness she had let grow inside her howled, and using every bit of strength left to her Rey called to the Light it had banished. It ran up her arms as if it had never left, swirling and tangling with the Darkness in her chest. She harnessed them both, she stood calm in the middle of a maelstrom of power. It was ancient, and brooding, and it hadn’t been awoken in a very long time.

In her mind’s eye, she could see Leia and Luke, and others she couldn’t recognize. They were all around her, watching, hoping for her succeed. Invisible hands on her shoulders steadied her. This – this was what she was meant for.

There was a phantom nudging, a graze of a familiar presence that she needed like air to breathe. She felt for Ben’s spirit as it brushed against hers in the Darkness, pulling it to her with a surety born of desperation. She remembered their joined hands fixing the Falcon, fixing Chewbacca. She needed him. Needed the balance.

Stronger together than apart.

Ben’s confusion and worry were absorbed along with his strength, and Rey soothed him as best she could. Maker, she loved him.

She wished she could listen to his voice, but even as he stood beside her in spirit he was too distant to hear.

It took fractions of a second for Rey to lose herself to the Force, feeling the aches of her physical body dim as she stepped forward on legs which should have no longer supported her weight. In this moment, she was everything and nothing. She stepped forward into eternity.

Staring directly into Snoke’s dead eyes, Rey called on her newfound power. The lovely blue fire which had saved the life of her friend and had knitted the mountainscape of scars on her lover’s face flowed from her fingers again, but this time it had a different purpose.

It connected first with Snoke’s – Reth’s – hand, and the flesh twisted and fell away in ribbons. He paused only for a moment, as if the stripping of his skin from its muscle was of little consequence. A slash of his now-skeletal hand, and Rey was thrown to the floor, the raw bone of her shoulder connecting with the cold floor once more.

Rey felt phantom fingers on her neck, but she threw them off as the blue fire stripped the meat from a good swath of the creature’s torso.

He broke her leg in response, a fragment of femur spearing through the skin of her thigh. Rey barely grunted, but Snoke howled in anger. “You stupid girl, you think if you kill this body, it will be over? I’ll simply -”

“No.” The word was quiet, and stern. But she meant it.

The eyes of a frightened boy spurred her on. She would do it for Ben.

This had to end.

With all the power she could manage, Rey concentrated on a whiteish grey of Snoke’s spinal cord. A yank, and it was at her feet.

The fleshy sack slumped. Before the body fell, Rey had ripped it apart, gore scattering itself around the bridge and herself.

She lay back against the floor, panting, heedless of the cold agony in her back and her leg. The Force she had gathered fled, and with its loss she crumpled.

Rey tried to hold on to Ben, but his presence had left her as well. She hoped he understood. She hoped he had felt her reasoning, her convictions – her love for him.

Rey hoped he was free.

And once more, Rey found herself alone. The pain she had been suppressing rushed back in, the bone protruding from her leg turning her stomach. Unable to do anything else, Rey lay on her back in a circle of death, drawing in heavy breath after heavy breath.

She tried not to think of them as remains of the man who had at once been her friend.

The thought that she could kill a body but had no idea how to kill a _soul_ haunted her. What if Snoke had simply leapt to her, was waiting to bide his time? What if –

The green planet below them twisted away, the viewfinder facing toward the Supremacy again. Rey could clearly make out the grey disk of the Falcon speeding towards the listing yacht, tiny dots of TIE fighters shadowing it.

No – no! Not after all she had done. Not if there was inkling chance that Snoke still lived in the galaxy. In _her_ head. He would possess her, use her own hands to kill her friends, _Ben_ \- and this suffering would be for nothing.

Rey couldn’t let them die.

Besides – her life was forfeit regardless. She knew what death felt like. She had brushed up against it enough times. She was already gone.

But perhaps she had a little life in her yet.

And Reth had to have gotten on board somehow.

Using the last little shreds of Force she could call, Rey levitated the device over to her, using it’s great metal hulk as a crutch to pull herself up on a broken leg, a broken back. Everything screamed at her, but Rey persisted.

The room spun, blackness threatening to take over, but she wasn’t through yet. Rey half stumbled, half hovered out of the bridge, on a sentimental impulse tugging Luke’s metal hand along with her.

She left the robes. He no longer needed them. Shortly, she wouldn’t either.

It was the only time she had been in space and not felt cold.

She felt hands guiding her gently down the hallway, though whose she would never know. What had felt like hours of wandering through these halls condensed into a few moments, and Rey arrived at the small docking station with gentle direction from those invisible hands.

Reth’s shuttle was docked alongside them. Reth’s shuttle – fitting. It had brought her to Ben.

Now it could take her away from him.

Leaving blood handprints behind, bloody spatters on the floor, Rey let herself in the airlock, continuing to float the device beside her. No sense leaving it behind for someone to find, even if Snoke had been the only one who could have detonated it. She wouldn’t take the chance of someone else figuring it out. It was a small mercy that the toneless song it sang had fallen silent.

Weary-limbed, Rey settled with a cry into the pilot’s chair. Heavy breaths clouded the viewscreen as she plotted her course with numb fingers. Rey would send the shuttle to the farthest reaches of space, so far beyond the known galaxy that there was no chance of anyone being able to find her. She had not even an inkling of how Snoke’s transfer of consciousness could have been accomplished previously, or if it even required proximity, but it was the only thing she could think to do. She had to keep Ben safe.

The Force purred between her shoulder blades, licking along the edges of her raw wound.

It was content.

A final command with a shaking hand, and the stars turned into blue streaks before her eyes and the little circle of the Falcon disappeared. Rey let go of the Force, exhaling the tension she had held in a wheezing breath.

The hands which had guided her now rested on her shoulders, and Rey was content in the knowledge that she was not alone.

She had fulfilled her destiny.

Her friends were safe.

J2 and Hux and Millicent and the Supremacy and even her blasted plants would continue to spin onward in the galaxy.

And beyond all, Ben was safe.

It was over.

With that thought held in her mind, Rey closed her eyes and slumped back in the cramped pilot’s chair. Luke’s metal hand rested in her lap. She wondered if there would be anything left of her when she was gone, or if the shuttle she had turned into her coffin would be devoid of any trace she had once been there.

In the end, she supposed it didn’t matter. Truly... none of this had gone the way she had thought.

She tried to think of home, but the details were growing blurry, the image of green grass and ocean waves edging in beside shifting sands and the pinpricks of stars against the leaves of plants. Instead, she remembered the map of scars on Ben’s face, her fingers having traced every ridge of them endless times till they had been committed immutably to her memory. Her mouth curved into a soft smile, an exhalation releasing the tension in her battered chest. She was at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, if you listen to "I Will Not Bow" by Breaking Benjamin... that's pretty much our girl in this chapter.


	58. Chapter 58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning - graphic description of violence once more

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Kylo came back to reality with Rose’s fingers wrapped around his bicep. The mechanic was hauling him to his feet as Hux screamed orders with more than his usual red-faced fervor. The bridge had exploded into activity in the few heartbeats since the holocall dropped, a sea of black uniforms crashing all over the room in frenzied movements.

He stood as still as ice, the numbness in his mind finally translating to his limbs.

Rey had asked him to kill her.

Whatever was happening over in that ship was going so badly that ending her own life had seemed to be the only option left.

Rey – the survivalist, the eternal optimist, the scavenger – had asked to die.

Every millimeter of his body was taught, ready to spring into action as soon as there was a direction which to send his energy. Kylo felt himself dangerously close to losing control, and he struggled to maintain the façade of the Emperor. He clenched and unclenched his fists, arms shaking with the effort of keeping himself contained.

The phantom wounds which he now was certain were hers burned along his back, and he struggled for breath.

Dimly, he registered Rose asking if he was alright, her fingers gripping his arm tighter as she tried to get his attention.

He was not alright.

But as he opened his mouth to say something, suddenly he could see _her_ , and any words that Kylo had possessed fled in the face of her name.

Rey was a disaster – blood matting her hair to her forehead as well as running freely from a gash on her head and her split lip. Bruises were already blossoming on her face, her neck, the exposed skin of her shoulder where it appeared her collarbone had been broken. Her right eye was blackened and swollen nearly shut, and her arms trembled as she held them up.

But a Darkness he had never before felt from her rolled off of her presence in waves, calling to him and drawing him closer. Kylo found himself walking forward of his own accord, feet answering the call in his head as like called to like. The noise of the bridge faded away, and even the sensation of Rose’s hand fell from his notice as he drank in the raw power that was his beautiful Rey.

She radiated authoritative, angry Force; both vengeful and righteous. And she was _calling_ him. Kylo answered her gladly, conscious mind leaping into the river of Force to join with hers where it had always belonged. The Darkness she exuded was both new and familiar. It swallowed him up, but as it devoured him Kylo found himself bathed in her golden light once more. The two swam around him in a balanced cycle, neither one in control but both forces in total harmony.

There it was – there was the balance Rey had longed for. It was so much _more_ than he had ever expected.

He nudged against Rey’s presence, willing her to see him; to let him in, to let him _help her_. She looked straight through him, eyes filled with longing.

Kylo reached a hand to her face, to cup her bruised cheek and smooth away the blood, but his hand went right through her skin. She felt like a damp mist - nothing like the warm skin of his lover.

_“Rey – what’s happening?”_

The words faded away, torn from his mouth before they could reach her ears. She smiled at him all the same, her devotion so all-consuming that there was nothing else he could possibly feel. It buried him till he thought he might lose himself entirely, till he felt like he was inside Rey herself – her dulled aches burned in his body once more, the fire along her back, her collarbone, her bruises.

It reminded him of fixing the Falcon; of sparks arching from broken wires and the warning klaxon blaring from that broken down husk of a ship.

Mere moments had passed, but Kylo felt suspended in infinity. He poured himself towards Rey, willing her to take what she needed.

He was hers, regardless.

Watching through her eyes as she squared up against Reth, he felt the aches of her body melt away as Rey drew even more strength from him. Kylo struggled not to lose himself along with it – not yet, he had to stay here, what if she needed _more_ , what if she needed –

Her naked hatred of the man before her burned inside him, cycling in never-ending loop with her love.

She brushed her mind against his, and Kylo recoiled at how strange she seemed to him now. He could tell she was trying to comfort him, but the emotion behind it felt distant. The woman Rey had been - Kylo had known her inside and out, perhaps better than he knew his own self. But this strange being had a foot in eternity, ageless and somehow everywhere at all once.

Where had _his_ Rey gone – would he lose her to this? He reached for her, but his palm met nothing but the smooth material of the large window which made up the bridge of the Supremacy.

_“Please, Rey -”_

A wave of comfort washed over him again, and Rey’s attention was focused back on the man shambling towards her. Their immediate problem. Time returned to its normal state, and the slow steps of the Knight turned into a full-out run.

Kylo felt his hands move along with hers as if pulled by an invisible string, watching the blue fire grow in their palms. Its glow illuminated the room as it stripped the flesh from Reth’s hand.

He hadn’t known it could do that.

Kylo felt oddly disjointed as he watched his friend shake the now-skeletal appendage, teeth bared in the mockery of a smile.

A cold flash of pain lanced through his shoulder as Rey’s body fell to the floor. He cried out against fingers tightening around his neck, even as Rey gasped for air and threw them off.

 _“Rey!”_ His voice was raspy, feeling as if those phantom fingers had crushed his windpipe far harder than they had hers.

Another wave of power, and Reth’s chest was nearly bare. Still, his friend staggered forward towards his lover, a twist and pull of his hand breaking her leg.

Kylo screamed in agony, even as Rey remained silent.

Reth, however, was snarling. The words were muffled, the sound coming as if from an ocean away. “If you kill this body…”

Wait, what did he mean - _this_ body?

Kylo peered into Reth’s eyes through Rey’s hard gaze, and something indefinable clicked into place. The feeling of being young, and confused, and betrayed and _so alone_ circled around him, reminding him, dragging him down into darkness.

No – it couldn’t be. He was dead. He had killed Snoke, he had sliced his body in half with Rey’s blue saber, because of her, all because of _her_ -

Rey’s resolve pushed away the thoughts of the creature who had manipulated him for decades, and her voice roaring his name brought back the sunlight to his soul.

He did not want to believe what his intuition was telling him. But Rey’s intentions to murder this _thing_ before them for _him_ , because of the pain it had inflicted on _him_ – that was a reality he could not ignore.

Kylo felt himself being pushed further away from Rey, and he clung to her presence as tightly as he could. He railed against the smooth wall where their Bond had lived, pushing and pushing and _pushing_ in an effort to throw himself across the stars to her as they had done before. If he could be there with her, perhaps…

_“Rey – Rey please, please hear me.”_

He needed her, but Kylo was coming to the realization that she did not need him in order to finish what she had started.

Through Rey’s eyes, he watched their hands move together to thoroughly destroy the shell of a man which had once been his only friend. Watching the dark eyes of the corpse before them, Kylo knew that anything that had once been a part of the man once called Gareth had long fled.

All he felt was satisfaction, and relief.

When they were through, Rey lay on her back in a circle of blood and flesh, victorious – but dying.

He could feel it.

Kylo opened his mouth to scream her name, unaware if his body or his presence was obeying his command. He was surrounded by her love, but he fought against it – it felt like a goodbye, and Kylo was not about to say that, not now, not after everything.

But Rey was fading from view, fading from his senses, and being replaced by something he was completely unequipped to handle.

In his mind, in his spirit, in the fabric of his very being, the lies which Snoke had pushed on him and perpetuated through his machinations were slowly being stripped away, and Kylo was forced to confront the reality that his abuser had indeed been inhabiting the body of the man he had called his friend since Gareth had stepped back into his life.

But even the weight of that betrayal was nothing compared to the freedom he felt as truths long hidden revealed themselves. A thousand tiny lies righted themselves in seconds, staggering him, but it was nothing compared to the pillars of his existence being challenged.

The memories of his parents, once tainted by feelings of neglect and their fear, were replaced with a tone of parental concern and uncertainty but above all else, their undying love.

The glinting in Luke’s eyes that night at the Academy turned from pure anger and malice to fear – and then to the deepest shame.

The raging fires of destruction and the crackle of his blade which had ended the lives of innocents bled away, and the light never left the frightened eyes of those children which had haunted him for years.

Snoke was no longer the behemoth in his memory; no malevolent presence lurked beneath the surface of his psyche any longer.

Rey had freed him.

With the crushing weight of that guilt lifted from his spirit, Kylo resurfaced from the river of Force, shaking and shivering as if he had been underwater for hours.

The activity on the bridge roared full force back into his ears, and Kylo jerked his head back as if struck.

Rose’s round face was the first thing he saw, backlit by stars and red alert lights.

“Kylo! Kylo – talk to me, what’s going on? The Falcon’s left, they’re on the way, they’re going to get her – Kylo, you have to talk to me, what are you seeing – do you see Rey?” Rose spoke calmly, and as soft as if she were speaking to a wild animal. She was kneeling on the floor beside him, the red lights from the bridge casting her a strange glow.

Hux loomed over her, his face drawn tight and full of _worry_.

Kylo exhaled a breath that sounded more like a sob and gestured weakly toward the listing ship. He opened his mouth to say her name, but it refused to be heard. His cheek was damp – was that a tear? Surely not.

Instead of the name of his beloved, the other half of his soul, the name of the man she had destroyed was spat out like poison.

“Snoke.”

As the word left his mouth, the entire bridge fell silent. Hux looked from him to the yacht with an unfathomable expression on his face – flickering between fear and anger before melting into steely calm.

Kylo panted, willing his body to remain under his control. He shook and shivered, wrenching his arm from Rose as she tried to offer comfort once more. His leg burned, his back felt exposed and torn open. He felt Rey’s wounds as if they had been carved into his own flesh, but it was nothing like the pain in his heart.

He wanted no comfort. Rey – Rey was on that ship, Rey was dying; Rey, his Light, his beloved –

_Rey…_

The Falcon crept closer, but it was too late. Kylo and the entire bridge watched in silence as the small shuttle detached from the yacht’s hull. It crept a few meters away from the ship before disappearing in a streak of blue.

He tried to remember how it had felt to be surrounded by her love, but all he could feel was her body dying around him.

Staring at the empty stars, Kylo buried his face in his hands. He was no longer capable of caring who saw him fall apart. He called for Rey in a broken voice, the only sound on the tomb-quiet bridge.

Kylo waited to feel the universe fall to pieces around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here, lovely readers, is where I beg for you to trust me. There is a satisfying ending, no matter how bleak things may seem. <3


	59. Chapter 59

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

“You’re a fool for staying.”

“You’re fools for leaving; there’s much more to be done here. You’re only running away.”

“We’ve done enough.”

“Would the General have agreed?”

“The General didn’t see _that_. We deserve some peace. You deserve some peace. Come with us, Rose. The war’s done. I’m not even sure if we’ve won or lost.”

“All the more reason for me to stay – try to make sure things turn out the way they need to.”

“The galaxy doesn’t need you to sacrifice yourself in order to keep on spinning. It needs decent, ordinary folk doing decent, ordinary things.”

“Go ahead. Go, by all means. Go be decent and ordinary. But I’m staying. Chewie’s staying.”

“…I guess we’re done here.”

“I guess so.”

“… I’ll see you around, Rose.”

“… Goodbye, Finn.”

\-----

Hux watched the days turn to weeks, and the weeks bleed into a one month, and then other. Time rushed on inevitably, flowing like a river around the stone that was Kylo Ren.

On some level it was impossible not to admire the man’s dedication. On another, it was an endless source of aggravation.

The video of his complete and utter breakdown on the bridge had leaked to the media – of course it had, there would have been no stopping it. The entire galaxy had seen their Emperor talking to thin air and screaming the name of a woman they had known only as the Grey Lady. The mysterious Hand of the Knights of Ren.

Hux had detested it, even though on some level he understood. Ren would never know how lucky he had been. Hux had learned a thing or two about manipulation from the hideous wrinkled monster that had made both of their lives a living hell for years. A few well-placed words in ears primed for listening, and instead of watching the rantings of a madman the average citizen saw the lovestruck Emperor as some sort of wounded hero.

Which, on some level, Hux supposed was far closer to the truth than either of them would care to admit.

The stubborn git he was, Ren refused to admit Rey was dead. For days afterword, he had sat quietly by himself, shoulders tensed and replies curt. When Hux had finally confronted him angrily on his catatonic state, Ren had turned bloodshot eyes upward. His movement were slow, as if even shifting his position slightly would cause indescribable agony.

At last, he had said quietly that he was still waiting to feel her die.

Against all reason, Hux had sank into the chair beside Ren. They had sat in silence for over an hour, and all the while Hux was mulling a response over in his mind.

In the end, he had opted to say nothing. There were simply moments beyond words. After an hour or so of shared silence, he stood and clapped the other man on the shoulder before exiting the room. Hux had retreated to his quarters, scooping up Millicent and scratching her back till she yowled her displeasure at this unusual overflow of affection.

There were many unknowable mysteries of the Force, and Hux was content to let them remain so.

Three more days of tense waiting had passed before Ren emerged again, perhaps a little quieter, but more the man Hux had remembered. He jumped back into his role as the Emperor with both feet, appearing for multiple interviews and commitments a day while maintaining the long hours required to keep this fledging government afloat in the chaos.

The galaxy ate him up, calling for campaigns to “Save the Grey Lady” and “Bring Rey Home.” The systems searched for her – even now, three months down the road, there were still patrols for the express purpose of locating Rey’s shuttle. The average citizen had gone completely heart-eyed over the brokenhearted Emperor, and to Hux’s muted glee their approval scores soared. Reforms that he had never thought possible were flying through the restructured Galactic Senate and rapidly on their way to becoming laws.

The list of reforms he’d found on a scribbled-upon piece of paper laid on his desk one morning may actually be on their way to becoming a reality.

He daren’t mention any of that to Ren, however. When the man wasn’t playacting at being the ruler of the entire known galaxy, he kept his own company. Occasionally, he would converse with the scruffy mechanic girl or the hairy beast, both of whom had hung around.

The traitor and his pilot had left at their first opportunity in the broken-down Correlian ship, unable to coax the other two to follow.

Hux had allowed the other two to stay for reasons he refused to admit to himself. If he were being honest, a portion of those self-rationalizations were because he figured that Rey’s spirit would torment him from the great unknown if he had forced them to leave.

In fact, he’d actively avoided contact with them as much as possible. Which was why it was so very strange that the black-haired girl was standing in front of the closed door to his quarters, arms crossed over her chest with look of self-righteous indignation on her face.

“So. How long were you planning to let this go on?” She quirked an eyebrow at him, and Hux was taken aback.

“I have no idea what you mean.” It wasn’t a lie. Hux was completely baffled.

“You know exactly what I mean, you buffoon.”

He had bristled at that. Keeping his temper in check, Hux carefully enunciated his reply. “Perhaps you should illuminate me.”

“He still thinks she’s coming back.”

Hux shook his head, more out of reflex than disbelief. “Impossible. He said – he told me he would know. And then he started participating again… he must have…”

But the girl was shaking her head, the strange little flips of hair which had fallen around her face bouncing across the collar of the purloined First Order jacket as she did so. “No. He thinks she’s out there. He says he never felt it. Hux – you and I both know that if she could have…”

The girl let her sentence die, and Hux nodded sharply. If there was one constant in the universe that Armitage Hux would have bet on, it was Rey’s devotion to Kylo. He remembered her piss-and-vinegar approach to reaching the man on D’Qar with more fondness than he would have thought possible.

She’d been frantic to reach him, to the point of openly choking the second-in-command of a Star Destroyer in a public hallway in the middle of the morning. The look of wild desperation in her eyes was not something he would have forgotten with any haste.

Yes – if Rey could have gotten back to Kylo, she would have clawed her way back no matter what it cost her.

There was no doubt in Hux’s mind; Rey had died on that shuttle, and any recovery of the craft would simply confirm the unavoidable truth. It would spur the inevitable erection of monuments and memorials for the girl who finally rid the galaxy of Snoke.

Perhaps that was necessary, now. The thought of the Emperor pining uselessly after the girl turned his stomach on both a personal level and a galactic-safety-level. Kylo unhinged was not a man to be trifled with.

And on some level that Hux tried very hard not to acknowledge, he knew the man deserved some peace.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

The girl nodded sharply, turning to leave. She paused a step away from him, turning her round face back to his for just a moment. “He doesn’t know that I know. He talks to her, when he doesn’t think anyone can hear. He wont set foot in their room, but he hovers outside the door frequently. He walks the halls at night, sleeping for about an hour or two in his old room before resuming his day. He’s going to burn out.”

Hux blinked at her again, curiosity getting the better of him. “How do you -”

She shrugged, as if anticipating the question. “I have my ways.”

Ways, indeed. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen the girl use her intuition wisely. The gears in his head were already turning. “The galaxy could benefit from those _ways_. You would make a welcome addition to our espionage program.”

She smiled, a disarming light in her eyes. “But I thought the galaxy was at peace now, General Hux?”

“It would be best to keep it that way, then.”

Rose – that’s right; her name was Rose - nodded in agreeance. “Indeed it would.”

Hux walked into his quarters, mulling her words over in his mind.

\-----

In the end, Hux didn’t have to do anything. The call was raised in Pixelito a day later. A shuttle matching the description of the one Rey had used in her disappearing act had been spotted in a junkyard outside the city, information sussed out by the two remaining Knights of Ren.

Of course, the junkyard owner had reported it as being completely empty. He had only noticed it by chance, the bloody handprint by the door control giving him pause. He had no memory of it appearing in the heap of other broken-down ships, and Hux had been inclined to believe him, as had Rose. Feris and Serrin could be… persuasive. If a trace of Rey remained onboard before the junkman had alerted them, they would have found out.

Ren, on the other hand…

“I don’t require your approval, Armitage. I’ll be taking my ship and investigating for myself.”

So they were back to antagonism again, it seemed. Hux wanted to snap back, but instead turned his angry words into a sigh. The crazed look in Ren’s eye did not lend itself well to reason, and certainly he was unwilling to poke the bear.

“Ren, it’s not that I need to sign off on -”

“Isn’t it though? Who is the Emperor here, is it me after all or is it you? Sometimes I forget.” Ren spat the words at him angrily, pacing the length of the bridge walkway like a caged animal.

“It’s not that – Ren, think of the media attention if you head down there yourself. Let us bring the ship to the Supremacy. Or Coruscant. Or literally anywhere else.”

Ren shook his head, sending untrimmed black hair flying in his face. “No. I need to see it there – see how she left it.”

Rose’s words reminded him how close the man was to a complete breakdown, and Hux decided that the galaxy could miss its Emperor for a few days. “Fine – go, but if you get hounded by reporters the entire time you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Ren spun on his heel and stalked off, and against his better judgment Hux called after him just as the elevator doors opened. “Ren… what would she have thought of this?”

Ren stopped short of the door, swirling back angrily. Ice in his eyes, the Emperor replied frostily. “You were never in any position to know her mind, Armitage. Don’t forget that.”

“But I do know you, Ren. Whether you like it or not.”

Ren huffed an exasperated breath and stomped away. Hux watched him leave, wondering how, exactly, this was going to play out.

\-----

Chewbacca watched as Little Ben emerged from the belly of the downed shuttle, looking more alone than he had ever been in his entire life.

The Wookiee had known there would be nothing of value inside the shuttle. If Little Ben was being honest with himself, he would have said the same. But love and loss make men desperate, and Little Ben had needed to see for himself, with his own eyes.

Chewbacca had no need to see the place where Sunbeam had drawn her last breaths. It would look like any other place, with nothing extraordinary to mark it. It would not have fit her, and thus he had no need of it.

A tree on Kashyyyk, where the light fell through the leaves in just the right way and dappled the ground with shadow – that’s where Sunbeam should be remembered. That would be where she lived on. There was nothing of her lingering here, in this junkyard so similar to the one she had escaped from.

Little Ben had paused to look at the bloody handprint on the door, his arm twitching as if he longed to place his palm alongside it. In the end, he had stormed off to their ship without a word. Chewbacca followed him a pace behind, keeping a watchful eye for an errant reporter. The two others in black had assured Little Ben that no one would trouble their visit, but Chewbacca was wary of their promises.

He followed the bowed shoulders of his best friend’s son up the gangway, saying nothing. He knew Little Ben would speak when he was ready. He had known the boy since his birth. Had held him even before his own father had – Han had been too scared of the small bundle, too afraid to drop him. It had taken seeing the tiny infant lost in the hairy arms of a Wookiee to make him take the boy on his own.

Strange, the turns life had them take.

Little Ben threw himself heavily into the pilot’s seat, jabbing at the controls with angry hands. Before long his movements slowed, and he rested his head in the palms of his hands instead.

Chewbacca understood.

“I thought…” Little Ben let his words fade into the empty air, the space between them thick with unspoken volumes.

_“You thought there would be something left of her.”_

The man beside him nodded, and a small glimpse of the boy he had been fluttered through in this vulnerability.

_“And there was nothing.”_

Another nod.

_“Anything that made Sunbeam who she was would not have been on that ship, regardless.”_

Little Ben looked up from his hands, almost surprised. “That’s not – Chewie, that’s not why I’m upset.”

The Wookiee blinked, but tilted his head to encourage him to continue.

“She’s alive.”

He growled softly; wordlessly. This was a dangerous delusion. If Sunbeam were alive, there was no power in the universe that would have stopped her from returning. If Chewbacca was certain of one thing, it was that.

“No, I mean it. I never – Chewie, I felt… I felt my mother pass. I felt Luke pass. I should have – there’s no way I would have missed Rey. I would have felt her die, Chewie. I never did. I waited – I waited for almost a week. There was nothing. I’ve been waiting ever since.”

Chewbacca found himself in the extremely uncomfortable position of having to crush the spark of hope that lived in Little Ben’s eyes, and he detested it.

_“Little Ben, if Sunbeam has not returned to you, she is unable.”_

“No – Chewie -”

_“Please – listen to me, Little Ben. There was never such a thing as the two of you possessed. It colored the very air between you. It would not have surprised me if it extended into the afterlife. But it has been three months. Sunbeam has not come home. And she would not want you to -”_

“How would you know what she wanted?”

_“Do not forget who sent her to the Supremacy in the first place, Little Ben. I knew her mind better than you may imagine.”_

He never replied, instead igniting the engines of the shuttle and pulling the craft into the outer atmosphere with more speed than was strictly necessary. It hurt to see him so broken. So angry, so impetuous.

Chewbacca sat in silence, watching for whispers of the boy he had known hidden in the man beside him. Every so often, he would see the Princess. More often, he would see Han.

It reminded him why he should stay. Someone had to take care of the boy.

\-----

It had been three months, J2 thought. It was time enough for this.

He was disobeying a direct order, but something deep in his circuits told him that the order was illogical and therefore ripe for disobedience. He keyed the access code for Mistress Rey’s room without urgency and waddled into the empty space with confidence.

It was, as instructed, exactly as it had remained from that day three months ago. The bed was unmade. A mostly empty bottle of alcohol sat on the dresser. Master Ren’s clothing was strewn across the bench haphazardly. All of their beautiful plants had died, the only exception being the hardy red Millaflower on the dresser. A tiny jolt of what might have been pain registered in the droid’s consciousness, but it was pushed aside easily enough.

Without hesitation, J2 gathered the clothes to be sent for cleaning. He surveyed the small space, carefully placing a handful of items in the trolley he had drug along with him.

After only moments, he exited the room without a glance behind him.

\-----

Kylo was in a dark mood. He stomped into his room after his return from Pixelito, not bothering to raise the dimmed lights as he sent his lightsaber to it’s place on the wall. He intended on simply stepping into the ‘fresher to wash away the disappointment of the day.

As a result he stumbled over a collection of items a half-step into the doorway, and after catching himself Kylo looked down at them with a scowl.

When he noticed what they were, his blood ran cold.

A red flower. A bottle of liquor. And a small device that looked like a compass, but upon inspection the dial spun lazily with no clear direction.

 _J2_.

Kylo jerked the datapad out of his pocket, intending to reprimand the droid for his brashness. After a moment of furious writing, his ire had faded and he returned the device to its place without sending the hastily-typed message.

It would do no good.

He set the flower carefully on his dresser, but tossed the bottle and compass into his closet without a second glance. It would do him no good.

Kylo sat heavily on the bed, Chewbacca’s words playing over and over again in his mind. He started to reach out with the Force, to wade into the cold river of power and call desperately for her as he did every night – but something stopped him.

There had been so much loss – losses he hardly had time to acknowledge, much less process. His mother. His uncle. Takeshi.

Gareth.

He swallowed harshly at the thought of the man who had once been his closest friend. Whose life had ended in violence, with a madman inhabiting his head. Who had turned into the instrument of Kylo’s complete undoing, unwittingly or not.

And ultimately, the man who had removed _her_ from his life.

He looked back at the red flower, sitting innocently on the dresser. The world started to spin, a feeling akin to panic crushing his chest till breathing felt nearly impossible. His losses, his responsibilities, the weight of everything piled up till there was nothing left but a descent into darkness.

It was too much. It was far too much. Especially without _her_.

The raw wound in his chest squeezed, and everything in him ached for her presence to be beside him again, where she belonged.

If this was what love felt like, he no longer wanted it. It infected every millimeter of his being, filling in the cracks, making him weak.

She had always made him weak.

Burying his head in his hands, Kylo tried to think of something – anything – other than her. It was an exercise in futility.

He threw himself to his feet, pacing the length of his room in long, angry steps. When he reached the far wall, he raised a fist to the steel, but lowered it before his knuckles could make contact with the metal.

A few more strides across the room, and his control had fled. He smashed his fist against the wall violently – once, twice, three times. Kylo roared in anger, desperately trying to excise the agony from his chest before it destroyed him.

He hadn’t done this since –

The thought of her vanished as his fist connected with the wall again.

He had spent himself railing against the wall, but he was still suffering. Now, his hand throbbed along with the beating of his heart, a reminder that she wasn’t here to stop him. Or to comfort him.

The Force rose up in his chest again, further suffocating him. Something else he was beholden to. Something else where her presence would always echo but she was _gone_ and he was alone.

He couldn’t bring her back. He couldn’t bring anyone back.

But he could close the door on the silence, seal up the chasm where her voice should be.

Kylo shut his eyes, exhaling some of tension in his chest with a shaky sigh. He slipped carefully into his meditation, and brick by brick built a wall between himself and that river of raw power which held no answers – only memories which he would rather forget.

When he opened his eyes, the world had gone dull. But the ache in his chest had subsided, and surely that was worth something after all.


	60. Chapter 60

>

image credit to the talented and wonderful [bex_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo)

Time marched onward, as it always had done.

It was more than past time for the central government of the galaxy to no longer be contained in a floating city, but something more permanent. So the decision had been made, resolution voted on, passed, and at last enacted.

The Galactic Capital was once again located on Coruscant. It had seemed to be the simplest to Kylo, who had no strong opinions on where he laid his head at night any longer. Besides, there was still much to be done on the planet itself, the Underworld a vast and teeming refuge for lowlifes of all kinds.

Cleaning it up would be good PR, and it would make Hux happy without Kylo having to jet around the galaxy for photo ops.

Simpler.

That was what he told himself, anyway. He stood in the doorway of the grand room prepared for him in the Imperial Palace, feeling more than a little lost.

The room was gigantic – fairly cavernous, even, with far more space than he could have ever needed. The floor was a polished marble, the yawning expanse of which was broken up by large rugs scattered throughout. An enormous fireplace resided on the far wall, flanked by comfortable looking armchairs and a large couch. Bookshelves lined the wall behind the massive bed, over-made with linens in red and cream.

It was, frankly, ridiculous. Especially for a man who had spent nearly his entire adult life sleeping on a bed where his feet nearly hung off the end in a stark room comprised of entirely of shades of grey.

He would have been happier in a broom closet.

With a sigh, Kylo walked further into the room, boots ringing on the smooth stones. He stepped to the far corner of the space, where the items brought from the Supremacy took up a tiny corner beside a ridiculously oversized chest of drawers. Among them were his worktable, assembled far more neatly than it ever had been previously. The collection of ratty books that had once belonged inside a tree on a windswept island – never opened, but Kylo couldn’t bring himself to relegate them to some dusty library shelf. A bottle of liquor with barely anything inside. A large red flower, far outgrown its original pot.

A steel box containing what Kylo knew was his grandfather’s helmet.

He walked over to it, lost in thought. He had long since meant to give the destroyed helm a more dignified resting place. Perhaps the last remaining bit of Anakin Skywalker should rest in the annals of the former Jedi Temple. Neither the Temple nor the man had ended up the same as they had started – they were a matched set.

It felt like a nice bit of full-circle. Even if Kylo could no longer feel the Force, that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate irony where it was involved.

So, picking up the steel box, he turned sharply on his heel and left the gaudy space in search of somewhere fitting. There had not been much time for his own exploration of the large Imperial Palace, but J2 had promised that a map had been downloaded to his datapad. Kylo paused, balancing the box between his hip and the wall as he consulted the device.

The library – no, too public, and currently too full of Dark artifacts.

The counsel chambers – also a definite no.

There were a lot of rooms that currently lacked a purpose, and Kylo skimmed past those with an irritated flick of his finger.

It was a shame that the trappings of the Jedi Order had been destroyed by the previous Empire. So much history had been lost. But – Kylo’s finger hovered over a small section of the map, deep in the belly of the lowest level, that held some promise.

Nestled beneath the audience chamber – the former Hall of Knighthood, the map told him – were a series of small meditation chambers. Kylo couldn’t imagine a current use for them aside from perhaps yet more storage. Regardless - he was the Emperor; if he co-opted a room for his use, the underlings were just going to have to deal with it.

That settled it, then.

Kylo resumed his walk in silence, tucking the box awkwardly under his arm so that he could continue to follow the map. He passed a few others on his way down, who wisely either did not acknowledge him or simply nodded and went on their way.

He didn’t have a reputation for having a temper, exactly – but its existence wasn’t a well-kept secret, either.

It didn’t take Kylo long to reach his destination. The space under the audience chamber was cold and damp – seemingly carved from the bedrock under the large building. A long hallway housed many smaller doors, which Kylo assumed to be the chambers themselves. Starting with the closest on his right, he began his inspection of their contents. Several of them were filled with the detritus of decades and three separate ruling regimes, but one – the smallest, and furthest from the stairs – lay empty.

It was perfect.

Kylo stepped into the dark room, setting the box down carefully in the center of the empty space. There wasn’t much to recommend the room – it wasn’t cozy, or well furnished, or even lit – but it was a small corner of this sprawling place which remained similar to how the Jedi Temple had once been. Perhaps, his grandfather would have been happy to know he’d returned, in some form or fashion, after all this time.

A fuzzy itch wriggled in the corner of his mind, and Kylo batted it away. Even cutting himself off from the Force as he had, he still felt the occasional annoying prickle as it tried to reassert itself. But after a year of practice it was easily dismissed more often than not.

He turned to leave, but found himself unwilling to retire to the hollow space he was supposed to call his own. Loneliness gnawed at him. Feeling introspective, Kylo lowered himself to the floor before the silver box, sitting tailor-fashion on the dirty floor. There were many topics still off-limits in his head – family generally chief among them – but he was maudlin tonight, so he indulged himself for a moment.

He wished there had been something of his mother, or of Luke, to lay to rest alongside their father.

They had found nothing on of Luke’s on the Inverness except his brown robes, and Maker only knew what had happened to those in the time since. At the time they had been recovered, the ratty brown fabric had been covered in a thick layer of gore. Kylo hadn’t felt too inclined to figure out the provenance of it.

The thought of that ship and what happened onboard turned the tickle into a sharp poke. Kylo recoiled, shaking his head. No – he was maudlin, not crazy. He couldn’t go down that path – not tonight, not ever.

It was better this way.

But this time, the pull wasn’t going away.

The tickle had turned into a poke. Then a prod. Then a stick and a slap and a _punch_ till Kylo felt like he was actually being attacked. With a groan, he staggered to his feet, slumping towards the door as quickly as he could. This was a mistake – this place was too steeped in Force, how could he have ever thought that –

He needed to _leave_.

There was a fire in his mind, and Kylo could barely see as he tore through the hallways, back the way he had come. If there were witnesses to his erratic flight through the hallways, he would never know.

By some miracle he arrived back in the ostentatious room he was supposed to call his own, slamming the door behind him with no heed for whoever might hear it. Running a hand through now-sweaty strands of hair, he desperately tried to rebuild the wall that had kept him safe thus far. It was starting to crumble around him, pieces of it falling faster than he could shove them back into place.

It was a losing fight from the start.

With a growl, he relented. “All right, all right, fine!” He snarled at nothing in particular, ripping down the boundaries in his mind with uncareful hands – anything to stop the pain. “You _win_.”

He could rebuild them later. The last brick fell away with less drama than he had anticipated, and Kylo waited to find his equilibrium once more.

No voice echoed his surrender, no figure appeared before him with a wise and knowing smirk. The color bled back into his life by degrees, the senses he had been suppressing roaring back to life as ears do when acclimating to altitude.

The dull background roar was gone. Sounds were sharp, crystalline.

And Kylo could hear a _ticking_.

It was erratic – far too spaced out to be a timer. And it seemed to be emanating from the pile of things brought from the Supremacy.

The tiny nudge of Force along his spine – a sensation he had not been privy to in a long time – urged him onward.

Curiosity won out, and Kylo crossed the room to the collection of things from his old life that still lurking in the corner. He tore through the neatly-arranged items on his workspace, but the source of the noise did not reveal itself. He dug through drawers with no success. Several other dull silver boxes were opened, perused, and discarded roughly as he continued. A mess was accumulating beside him as he knelt on the floor, continuing his search through things he wasn’t even aware he had owned.

In the end, it was in the battered wooden box which housed his calligraphy supplies. A little circular silver metal case, no bigger than his palm. The hinged lid had popped open somewhere in transit. A blue center gem glinted in the overbright lights of his room, and around that diadem a tiny drafter’s compass spun erratically.

He rocked back on the balls of his feet, resting with his knees on the floor as he regarded the little compass. A memory tugged at him – the compass next to his calligraphy supplies, at the Academy. A lifetime ago now.

Kylo felt his uncle’s presence waft past him. Just a hint, and he was gone once more. The faint tang of burnt ozone – a lightsaber’s ignition – hung in the air for half a heartbeat longer. The fact that the old familiar rage didn’t rise up in him at the sensation must have meant something – but he wasn’t certain what.

Another flash of memory – throwing the little case into the back of his closet in a fit of rage, nearly a year ago now.

Rey – it had come from her room. Their room. Rey had Luke’s compass. But why?

The tiny half-moon needle swung to one side – _tick_ – then the other – _tick_ \- sometimes flipping between the two with great speed, sometimes lazily circling the device before swinging violently back in the other direction. Kylo watched it for a moment, his palms itching it pick it up. He was strangely hesitant, as if the little thing might burn him.

Eventually, he gave in. Reaching out with fingers than trembled only slightly, he scooped the compass up.

Immediately, the scent of _her_ filled the air around him. Sun-baked sand. Fresh-pressed clothes. Evergreen trees.

Kylo closed his eyes, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. Maker, he missed her.

He brushed against the smooth wall in his mind, feeling the mental scar that resided there now. It was still cold, the faint memory of her scent having done nothing to warm it.

It didn’t register until moments later than the needle had stopped swinging, pointing insistently out the door of his room.

Kylo stared, dumbfounded, at the little silver circle with its blue gem and _wondered_.

A heartbeat’s hesitation, and he was on his feet. Kylo walked towards the door while staring at the little needle. It vibrated only for a moment, keeping its course constant and true.

Kylo stood outside his door, questioning. Another wave of evergreen scent brushed past him.

He took another step, waiting for the needle to turn. He was not disappointed, it pointed him down hallway after hallway till he arrived in the starlight-flooded courtyard where his private shuttle sat, a hulking black shadow in the darkness. The needle was pointing him straight to it. No longer hesitating, Kylo walked up the gangway into his shuttle, trying not to think about where the compass was taking him or who was directing his steps.

He _really_ hoped Chewie hadn’t taken it upon himself to add any half-finished improvements to the shuttle today.

He settled into the pilot’s chair, placing the compass to the left of his star chart. When not in his palm, the needle spun lazily. Kylo tried not to wonder how he was going to manage to follow its direction through space as he pulled the shuttle up gently, roaring away from the Imperial Palace without so much as a second thought.

\-----

“Hux, I’ll be back when I’m ready.”

“Ren, this isn’t a joke. Do you have any idea what you’re missing? Do you even care?”

“Frankly, Hux… no. I don’t care. I truly don’t.”

The redhead sighed in exasperation, the holo flickering as he ran a hand down his face. “Ren, there are so many things wrong with that sentence I don’t know where to begin.”

“Then please don’t.”

Another annoyed sigh from the tiny hologram. “Would you at least do me the dubious honor of letting me know _why_ your Worship decided to fuck off to Wild Space directly before the biggest debrief of the year?”

Kylo opened his mouth to reply but opted for silence instead. Hux knew. He wasn’t stupid.

If he gave voice to the tiny hope that was now residing in his hollow chest, the candle flame may simply flicker out.

“I thought so. Ren…” The transparent figure flickered again – hyperspace connections were never the most reliable. “… try not to do anything stupid.”

Kylo raised an eyebrow.

Hux rolled his eyes.

“Anything any stupider than you’re already currently doing.” He amended. “I’ll keep the galaxy from falling down around our ears, but please -”

Kylo killed the connection before the irritant could ask him to check in every few hours, or something equally obnoxious. He didn’t need a minder.

Picking up the compass once more, he let the little half-moon needle cease its constant motion as it rested cupped in his large hands. He gathered the Force to him – slowly, slightly rusty with disuse – and conjured up the tiny flit of Force presence the blue gemstone held.

Still on track.

He gently set the compass down on the console. According the navcomputer, he was a half a day away from his destination. Kylo closed his eyes, willing sleep to come to him.

Once his boots were on the ground, he would not rest until he found what he was meant to find. Rey had been patient; the desert had taught her that. But Kylo’s life had given him different instruction. His lesson had been one of relentlessness.

He would persist until he succeeded.

\-----

He’d landed in a more remote area of Bakura, a planet that skirted the line between Wild Space and Outer Rim. The blue-and-green marble had hung in space before his viewscreen when he awoke, and he’d paused for only a minute to admire it. He’d hurriedly grasped the compass in one hand while smoothly guiding the shuttle into atmo with the other, listening for the tiny tremor in the Force that told him where to go.

The more he stood in that cold river of Force, the more comfortable he was feeling with the barriers down.

The little blue gem had brought him here – some remote rocky mountain outcropping, where the cloud cover was pregnant with the promise of rain despite the sun occasionally shining through. He’d landed the shuttle in less than ideal conditions, praying a strong wind didn’t rise up and knock the damn thing down from the cliff face it was currently balanced on.

He’d be here quite a long time, if it did.

Setting off into the rocky landscape with only the compass, his datapad, and a canteen, Kylo paused for only a moment to wonder if this was all a monumental mistake.

In the end, it didn’t really matter.

He’d trudged off through the brambles and rivers of tiny pebbles and waist-high bushes, looking for something he couldn’t quite bring himself to define.

Twenty minutes of stumbling around later, the clouds had grown even darker. Kylo wondered if he should have brought a poncho.

A bit of unsteady rock gave way under his feet, sending him sliding a foot or so backward and scrambling for purchase on a dust-covered boulder. He grit his teeth and hauled himself upward, tearing the sleeve of his tunic as he did so. He muttered a curse under his breath - J2 was not going to be happy that he’d managed to fuck up his nice clothes.

Rain would not help this scenario, and Kylo hoped it would hold off for a while longer.

After an hour of what felt like aimless wandering, the pull from the compass became a tangible one. His stomach gave a lurch in response to the strengthening of the Force, nearly causing him to stumble on a particularly crumbly section of mountainside. Kylo cursed angrily, righting himself and brushing the dirt from the knees of his pants. He stood just in time to stare a very surprised Rey dead in the eyes from a few paces away.

She blinked, saying nothing. She turned and fled up the stony hillside.

He resisted the urge to call out to her. Logically, he knew the Bond was gone, but the rush of primal fear he’d felt when he looked into her eyes – well, no power in the galaxy could have convinced him that the emotion hadn’t originated from her.

She was terrified that he had found her – but, not terrified of _him_ , exactly.

Kylo felt no need to chase her, fingers clenching around the compass. The needle still wobbled, showing him her path through the underbrush.

Rey was patient.

But he was relentless.

The heavens finally opened as they had been threatening to, and Kylo continued to make his way up the mountain – slower than Rey, perhaps, but he’d reach her eventually.

Water ran in his eyes, down strands of hair, off the tip of his nose. It didn’t matter. He would persist until he succeeded.

He set his jaw and continued.

Kylo slid a few times in the mud as the climb wore on, almost losing the compass once but quickly rescuing it from the nearby brambles before pressing on. He had not come this far – had not seen her _alive_ – only to fail.

He brushed the water away from the surface of the compass, eyes flicking between the needle and the winding path he was following.

He rounded a blind corner and stopped dead in his tracks.

She was waiting under a cobbled-together hide awning, the little hovel she had been living in illuminated from the inside with what appeared to be a very warm fire. He shivered at the reminder of how soaked to the skin he was.

Rey was cozy and dry, and she looked at him with resignation in her eyes.

“You might as well come in, now that you’re here.”

Whatever he had expected to feeling in this moment – finally seeing her again, _alive_ – it had not been this mixture of confusion and apprehension.

Kylo hauled himself up the last incline, finally standing on level ground with her. “I suppose I might as well.”

Water dripped from his hair to patter in the space between them.

If the fact that she did not greet him with words of love and regret stung, he did not show it.

She turned and limped the last few steps into her home, and Kylo frowned at the motion. Her broken leg – had it never been set properly?

Shaking the thought away, he crossed the threshold into her home. Bigger on the inside, it appeared that she had found a natural cave and constructed the façade on the exterior for additional protection.

Resourceful. That was Rey, all right.

Aside from the fire, nothing herein looked comfortable or cozy. It was cold, dark rock. A small pallet bed was huddled in the far corner. A table with a single chair on the opposite side. Little woven baskets and machine parts were scattered in various places. It was a place to live – it was not a home.

Before he could explore further, a roughspun blanket was shoved at him. “Here. You’re dripping.”

“Thank you for your concern.” He bit back, not missing how she snatched her hand away as quickly as possible so their fingers never touched. He threw the blanket around his shoulders, willing away the chill that was setting into his bones. Kylo huddled on the floor by the fire, following her around the room with his eyes. Rey shrank back form him, keeping to the edges of the cave till she reached the far side of the blazing fire.

Rey settled on the opposite side of the flames, stoking them quietly. Her hazel eyes were unknowable.

They sat in an uncomfortable quiet for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, ten – unable to take it any longer, Kylo broke the silence.

“Did you ever have someone look at your leg?” It came out gruffer than he had intended.

Rey stiffened. “It didn’t seem important at the time. I was alive, despite not planning on being so. It was functional. That was enough for me. And no, before you ask, I don’t know why I’m still alive. Or how I am. I just… am.”

“How did you end up here? I found your – Reth’s - shuttle on Pixelito. Empty.”

Rey shrugged. “I was never on Pixelito. After I woke up in orbit here, I found a city and landed. I buried -” a harsh swallow, and Rey looked away. For some reason, Kylo’s mind ran to Luke. “I buried everything I brought with me from that yacht. Then I sold that kriffing shuttle to a smuggler for a song, with the understand that he would trash it after his next job. I guess he lived up to his end of the bargain.”

“Or, the constant media attention focused on trying to find you and that shuttle made it too hot for him to hold on to.” Kylo said, a part of him relishing her pained expression.

“I don’t keep up with much news.”

Kylo spread his arms, encompassing the whole of her little hovel and its distinct lack of a computer terminal or holoscreen. “Can’t imagine why.”

Rey didn’t reply, and they fell back into an awkward silence. But he wasn’t done with her yet.

“Were you ever planning on telling me?” Kylo tried to keep the pain from creeping into his voice but had the distinct impression that he had failed.

Rey winced, the shoulder of her shift sagging down for a moment to reveal a thick scar across her collarbone. “Yes. No… Maybe.”

Kylo stared. “You’ll forgive me if I’m not reassured by that response.”

“It’s not that simple, Kylo.”

He flinched as if struck, and he watched her wince as well.

Kylo. She hadn’t called him Kylo since…

The tiny seed of hope in his chest withered.

Anger rose up in its place. “Then make it simple. I haven’t got all day to spend chasing errant...” He swallowed the word he had wanted to say, plunging on stubbornly. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve a galaxy to run.”

Rey smiled – actually _smiled_ , even if it was weak and unhappy. “I know. You’re doing so well.” There was no sarcasm here, no biting words. Some of Kylo’s anger receded as he waited for her to continue. 

In the back of his mind, the words _“you don’t need me”_ bumped against a stray thought.

She bit her lip – that old familiar gesture sending a cold spike of regret through his soul. “I didn’t leave because of you. I didn’t stay away because of anything you did.”

“Then for Maker’s sake, Rey, _why_?” The anger was giving away to pain, now, and pain made him weak, she made him weak – “Do you have any idea, any at all -”

The sleepless nights. The agony of uncertainty and false hope. The crushing sense of isolation. The gaping chasm in his chest where something _wonderful_ had lived.

And now there were tears in her eyes, and she’d thrown down the poker to limp to the far side of the cave. “Of course I do. I’ve wanted nothing but -”

“But what, Rey?” Desperation was crowding in on the edges of his voice.

Rey spun, the lines of her face taut with anger and something she wasn’t saying. “I’ve wanted nothing but to come back to you since the minute I left the Supremacy. You’ll never believe me – Maker knows I wouldn’t – but everything I’ve done since… it’s too much to explain. But I did it for _you_. Please. If you believe nothing else, believe _that_.”

She asked the impossible.

“You expect me to – Rey, you ran away. You left me. And then you told me to kill you, and you dragged me into your head to murder my friend and then you _left me_. You let me believe you were dead for a _year_. How can you expect me to believe that was all for my benefit?” He had stood, frozen fingers still clenched around the tiny compass. It took everything in his power to resist stomping over to her, to grab her shoulders and either crush her close or shake the answers from her.

To have her alive, and so close, but so _far_ – it was maddening.

“Yes! It was! And the reason why sounds insane and you’re never going to believe me -”

“Well maybe you should try me instead of running away! Maker, Rey -”

At that, she snapped. Rey threw her arms out in exasperation, eyes pleading with him to believe her.

“Gareth had Snoke in his head! For a long as I’d know him, the entire time. That… monster lived in his head. We thought we’d killed him – more fools us. He’d been playing us for years. And then I killed him – them – or I thought I did, and I thought – what if he’d done it again? What if he’d just gotten into my head instead – and he’d try to kill you, he’d come for you again, and I could stop him, I couldn’t stop him - ”

Kylo watched in horror as her anger turned to sadness, and Rey crumpled in on herself.

Shoulders heaving, arms shaking, her breathing became heavy and panicked tears made their way down her dirt-streaked face. Rey backed herself into the furthest corner from him, sinking to the ground and staring at her hands in horror. “I couldn’t  - better for you to think I was dead. Better for you - ”

“You don’t get to decide that for me. You don’t get to _chose for me_ , Rey.” Kylo took a step forward, trying to push his frustration back. Maker, he wanted her, he wanted to touch her, to hold her, make that look in her eyes go away -

“I chose _for myself_. I couldn’t live with the thought that I could hurt you.”

“Rey, stop.”

“Kylo, no -”

“It’s Ben, Rey!” He roared, throwing off the blanket and crossing the tiny cave in two large strides. Rey sunk back from him, turning her head away from the naked emotion on his face.

He dropped to his knees before her, spreading his arms wide and begging her to listen to him.

“It’s always been _Ben_. Don’t let me hear that name from your mouth again, please, I can’t -” He reached for her, arms aching to hold her to his chest, fingers begging to smooth the tear tracks away, to comb through her tangled hair.

She shrank back further in fear, chest heaving panicked breaths. “Don’t touch me, _please_ , I don’t want to hurt you, I’m not safe, don’t touch me, I can’t -”

Impossible.

He grasped her chin with as much tenderness as possible, tilting her face till her watery eyes were looking into his own.

“You could never hurt me.”

The compass fell to the ground, unheeded by either of them as his other hand rose up to cup her cheek, to smooth back her fallen strands of hair. Rey was stiff with fear, clearly bracing herself for the realization of her worst nightmares. Another tear snaked it’s way from her eye to the corner of her nose, and his thumb brushed it away.

“He’s gone for good. I know he is. Do you know why?” His voice was more gentle than it had ever been, calm and patient, willing Rey to listen instead of continuing to spiral in her panic. “When you killed him – when you finally rid the galaxy of his taint. You did kill him, Rey. Mark my words. Every single lie he’d ever woven into my head fell apart the moment you won. He couldn’t sustain them anymore. And I saw the truth at long last.”

A pause, and he continued. “He’s gone. He is never coming back. You’re safe. I’m safe. It’s done, Rey.”

She shook under his hands. He dropped her chin, placing his palm at the join of her neck and shoulder. Skin on skin.

“Trust me, sweetheart.” A prayer, a promise.

Rey was staring at him, the ice in her eyes melting in disbelief. She raised a hand to mirror his own, running her fingers down the ridges of the first mark she’d ever left on him. He leaned into her touch, the faint brushes of her fingertips running like fire through his nerve endings.

A choked sob, and Rey threw herself at him. He caught her willingly, arms winding around her ribcage and a hand tangling in her hair. Her body melted against his like it had only been an hour since their last embrace, not a year; every muscle he possessed relaxing at once.

He buried his nose in her hair, willing back the sobs that he felt in his chest. She was alive. It was all a fucking _misunderstanding_ , she was alive – she never wanted to be away, she wanted _him_ –

He felt her mouth move against his chest, murmuring his name followed by apology after apology, and Ben said his own regrets into the nut-brown hair which no longer smelled of evergreens.

Rey lifted her head, seeking his mouth with lips that tasted of salty tears. Ben claimed her kiss eagerly, caressing away the marks of her sadness from her lips, her cheeks, the corners of her eyes. Her fingers brushed away his own, smearing the tracks down the lines of his scars; into his hairline.

The tiny bit of Force he had held onto grew exponentially, squeezing his chest till he thought it might pop. But instead, his sense of _her_ grew to match it, and the final bit of ice he’d been holding onto in his broken heart melted.

It wasn’t the same. But neither were they.

The Force spiraled around their bodies, nudging and urging them onward. Ben held Rey to him as if his loosened his grip, even for a moment, she would disappear. Rey clung to him just as tightly, the faint sensations he was receiving of her relief and desire for him grew as she deepened their kiss.

Ben surrendered willingly, feeling in balance with himself for the first time in his entire existence. Every movement he made seemed to be in concert with the Force, nature, the cosmos, the gasps and sighs of the woman he loved. Who loved him.

 _How fitting,_ he considered as his thoughts became incoherent under the pressure of Rey’s slight body, _that the Balance in the Force had nothing to do with power all along._

Rey’s lips moved against his neck, and any further thoughts he had were lost. Everywhere around him sung of home in an exhalation of relief, even on the floor of this cold cave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its a wrap, my friends! A big, massive, unending, perpetual THANK YOU to everyone who has read this giant story that's been taking up my headspace for so long. It's been amazingly fun to write, and I hope yall have had just as much fun reading it. All my love. <3


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